Go To The Devil
by Dracoismysexgod
Summary: Postapocalyptic story about Hermione and Draco and the evil that lurks in the hearts of all people. Difficult to explain, but just give it a try! ::Winner at Dramione Awards and Nominated at Dangerous Liaisons:: Warning: VERY dark
1. Abi In Malem Rem

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything that you recognize within this story. All I own is my plot, and hopefully one day I will own Tom Felton too.

**Summary: **D/Hr…After HBP and the war…even though Voldemort was defeated, the destructive war has created a post-apocalyptic world in which darkness and madness has taken over…there is a small group of survivors who are trying to rebuild their lives, but one pale-faced boy is lost after being banished by Voldemort. His presence is calling to Hermione, but will she reach him in time?

**A/N: **This is a rather dark story, so mind the R rating. Also, please review!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Her long fingers twisted through the dark curls that cascaded down her shoulders as she looked in the only mirror she had run across for days now. She allowed her eyes to run over the other objects in the dimly lit hotel room that she had been fortunate to find. A moth-eaten bedspread covered a mattress that was thin enough to feel the rusty bedsprings below it. There was a television, but Hermione knew that she would be lucky if it even turned on. All the stations had stopped playing half-way through the war, when the Muggles had been driven mad by the amount of magic the two sides had used in their life-or-death struggles.

Hermione sighed, and closed her eyes. The loneliness that accompanied her mission was something she would never get used to. It was too risky to send out more than one survivor at a time. One death was better than two. She was gathering supplies for the Colony, the only civilized place left on earth. Built in the London Underground, it was where the survivors of the war lived and attempted to rebuild society.

'Hermione?' The voice in her head sounded tired, as he always did.

'Yes, Harry?'

'I was just making sure you're ok. Have you come across any others?'

Hermione shook her head sadly, and then realized that Harry was unable to see her. 'No. Not this time.' She didn't mention the dreams.

Harry paused before responding, and Hermione knew he was fighting to keep the dismay out of his thought transmissions. 'I didn't think so.'

'There will be more, Harry.'

'I certainly hope so, 'Mione. When do you think you'll be back?'

'Soon, I hope. I've got enough supplies besides food, which is becoming harder and harder to find. We're going to need to come up with a production system of our own soon.'

'I know. We've got people on it. I'd better go, Ginny is trying to call me, report to me soon, ok?'

'I will.' Hermione paused, her isolation seeping through her veins painfully. 'Tell Ginny and Ron hello for me, ok?' As she said Ron's name, pain clutched at her heart.

'Of course. We love you, Hermione.'

With that, the conversation was over and the silence enclosed Hermione once again. She stood up and walked to her window, shuddering as she saw the brightly colored clouds that she had once loved. Now the sunset only brought fear. As the darkness began to consume the sun, the Creatures came out. Hermione clicked her light off. It was too dangerous to call attention to herself.

She laid down on the thin mattress, and ignored the prodding bedsprings as best as she could. She hadn't been able to sleep well since the war started, but she needed all the energy she could get, so she closed her eyes and allowed the horrors that always came before sleep to flash before her eyes.

_They walked together across the deserted land. His eyes were the only things that they could see before them. Those awful, red eyes. Harry had destroyed every Horcrux but one – himself. As the Golden Trio marched ahead, Ginny followed unwillingly. Her lover was almost certainly going to die, and Hermione didn't blame her for the tears that were making paths down the girl's dusty cheeks. _

_The Death Eaters had either died or fled, and Voldemort was alone at last. He wore a snakelike grin on his face, for he thought Harry would never kill himself just to rid the world of him. _

_But the Prophecy had said only one would die, and it held true. As Harry knelt before Voldemort, a dagger pressed to his heart, Hermione and Ron held their wands out, ready to say the Killing Curse. With a final cry, Harry pressed the dagger deeper. Ginny ran forward with a scream as Ron and Hermione's voices combined and destroyed Voldemort. _

_As the red eyes dimmed, the ghosts of the ones he had killed rose above them, screaming in primal triumph. The Weasley parents, the numberless children from their school, most of the Order of the Phoenix…the devastation to the light side had been terrible. _

_Finally, it was quiet once again. The scent of decay lingered in the air, but the only sound was Ginny's soft crying. She leaned down to Harry's still form, and whispered her words of undying love. Suddenly, light began to encircle the two, and Ginny looked down in amazement at her lover, the tears glistening on her face. The dagger shone blue, and she began to pull it out of Harry. A thin, darkly glowing rope followed the dagger as Ginny exorcised Voldemort's presence unwittingly. _

_The wound healed right then, and Harry's eyes had opened. He and Ginny held each other for what seemed like hours. The war was over, but their troubles were long from it. _

Tears spilled from Hermione's eyes as she saw once again the bodies that littered the land. They had found survivors, and their numbers grew, but the destruction was irreversible. They had been forced to retreat underground when the stench above grew to be too strong. They cleared their space of death, and now had a city of their own.

Finally, sleep visited Hermione's troubled mind, but His face came to her again in dreams. She had been seeing it everywhere, in planes of broken glass, desolate pools of water, and especially in the dark crevices of her own mind.

He had silver hair, and a gaunt but stunning face. His skin was so pale it was almost translucent, and his gray eyes were alive with the desire to live. He wasn't close, that much she knew. He had been banished far away, in a place that only could be accessed by those who were brave enough to venture through the darkest places, physically and mentally.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His small fire was the only thing that kept the Creatures from emerging out of their shadowed homes. He called out again, not with his voice, but with his thoughts. He felt that somebody was finally sensing him, a girl with pained brown eyes that he held on to the image of for as long as possible before the night that lived inside him stole it away. And then he would reach out again. It was the only way to keep the evil from overcoming him.

Draco had been banished after Voldemort learned of his inability to kill Dumbledore. The Dark Lord had been furious, and had only spared his life because Snape had managed to complete his task. It was as Dumbledore planned, and even though Draco still felt his long-trained resentment towards the old man, he realized what the Headmaster had done to save his pupil's life.

Draco had closed his eyes in front of Voldemort, waiting for the green light to hit him and take away his soul, to kill him. But it never came. Instead, the evil lord had murmured a curse Draco hadn't recognized, and when he opened his eyes, he was here. That had been three years ago. He only ventured from the clearing where he had appeared once, and the memories of the Creatures that lurked around him haunted him ever since.

They were all dead, but some force kept them animated. Pieces of their rotting flesh dripped off and left only fur or scales and white bones behind. They spoke in languages known only to themselves. He could only feel them creeping into his dreams, trying to lure him into the forest.

He had to draw the girl here. He knew it would be putting her in danger, but he needed another human to save his sanity. He fingered his wand, hidden within his filthy robes, and wished he knew how to bring her here. The words lurked in his mind, accented with the snakelike hiss of Voldemort's voice, but he didn't know how to cast the spell upon her. Their connection would have to be stronger, and then…

_Abi In Malam Rem_

**Please, Please Review!**


	2. Ruins and Recollections

**Disclaimer: **I really don't want to repeat this over and over…I don't own Harry Potter!

**Last Time: **

He had to draw the girl here. He knew it would be putting her in danger, but he needed another human to save his sanity. He fingered his wand, hidden within his filthy robes, and wished he knew how to bring her here. The words lurked in his mind, accented with the snakelike hiss of Voldemort's voice, but he didn't know how to cast the spell upon her. Their connection would have to be stronger, and then…

_Abi In Malam Rem_

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione felt the familiar block in her throat as she stepped into the grey daylight outside. The smell that haunted the air had grown less horrible as time passed on and Hermione grew accustomed to it, but the decay was unmistakable. The dust that covered everything made the once vibrant London a dreary desert highlighted with crumbling, lonely buildings. But the worst things were the bodies.

They were everywhere. Families with children clutching at the legs of their stick-thin parents, lovers locked in a final embrace, babies with eyes that would forever stare at nothing…they had all been killed with a swift wave of passing Death Eaters' wands or had been driven into fatal madness. Even in death, their hopelessness showed. If they had attempted to fight their fate, the dark side had tortured them. There were crucifixes stationed at nearly every corner – signs to those who wanted to resist. The ones on them had expressions of twisted horror as they realized their martyrdom was for nothing. The Muggles were wiped out, and even if Harry managed to kill Voldemort, the light side had failed in their task to save the innocents.

Hermione always undid the nails in the crosses with the magic that still ran through her wand, and her heart grew harder every time she saw another rebel crumble to the ground. She looked at every face she passed, no matter how painful it was. It made her mission to keep her friends and herself alive for as long as possible seem even more necessary. These people couldn't have died only to have their survivors give up and let the world collapse completely.

After walking for nearly three hours, Hermione finally found a house intact enough to venture into in the search for food. As she pushed open the door, dust trickled into her hair. She ignored it, and stepped inside of the creaking house. Her eyes suddenly gleamed as she saw what lie on the small table in the middle of the living room she was in.

A book, wrinkled with neglect but still undamaged enough to read, was lying half-open. She allowed herself a small smile – the first in days – and her fingers trembled with excitement as she picked it up. Her thirst for knowledge was one of the few parts of her untouched by the war and although the time for reading was scarce, she tried to fit as much of it in as possible. She nimbly dusted off the cover of the book as she picked it up, and read, _The Odyssey_ by Homer. She gasped with delighted surprise, as this had been a book she had wanted to read ever since she had heard of the heroic epic poem. She held it to her tightly, almost as if she expected a Death Eater to attack her prized possession as they had during the war to keep the Muggles from learning any more than they already had.

Hermione softly walked into the kitchen, and clutched her newest object of comfort tighter at the sight in front of her. A dead toddler was curled on the floor, his once abundant curls hiding most of the tiny face. One of his arms was curled around his mother's ankle, and the other was held to his face as he sucked his thumb into his death. The mother was splayed on the table, her eyes rolled into the top of her head and her arms outstretched as far as they would go. Hermione shuddered at the obvious sign of madness. The toddler might have escaped this fate, his thin frame signaling starvation as his doom.

The girl squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears not to come. She walked around the table, only opening the amber eyes once she had escaped the immediate scene. She looked through the cupboards, her heart lifting slightly at the sight of dried noodles, canned food, and other imperishable products. She quickly found a bag, and stuffed it with the items. She would take it back to the hotel before the night came. The thought of getting caught when the sun went down sent a shudder down her spin.

She also stuck her book in the bag, freeing up her arms. Then, she ventured upstairs to see what else the house could provide, with only a swift glace at the tragic pair behind her. As she packed her bag with things like toilet paper, toothpaste, and other things the Colony could use, she suddenly heard a small noise in the room next to her.

She spun around, her wand out. Thoughts of the Creatures ran through her mind, but she slowly walked towards the closed door. She reached out to the doorknob but before she had a chance to turn it the door slammed open.

She screamed as a pair of white eyes glared at her. It was one of the changed, the Muggles who had turned mad from the battle of light and dark magic. Their minds and bodies hadn't been able to respond to the magic that coursed through the air, and slowly every Muggle had distorted into almost zombie-like creations. They ate human flesh, but couldn't know what they were doing. One bite could infect even the most powerful of wizards.

Hermione fumbled for her wand, but was too late. The monster bit through the soft skin on her wrist, and Hermione looked, horrified, at the blood that dripped onto the white tile below her. She knew she shouldn't hesitate; the white eyes were already beginning to tinge red with the lust for blood. She held out her wand, and yelled the Killing Curse as loud as she could. Her strength was already waning. She smelled the sickly smell of the corpse's rotting skin, and it was enough to persuade her to grab her bag and leave the house.

As she walked outside, nausea gripped the young witch. Everything was tinged with black, and Hermione was only capable of thinking about how she was letting her friends down. She doubled over, and her mind let down any defenses it had.

Far away, silver eyes gleamed as the boy felt his opportunity come. The girl was weak. He called to her, and muttered the spell under his breath. He closed his eyes and said the fateful words over and over. The brown eyes that swam constantly in his mind finally grew clearer, and the rest of her body came into focus. He reached out to her, touched her cold hands with his own. The feel of human flesh was almost enough to break his concentration, but he channeled his ecstasy into bringing the girl into his lair.

And finally, she came.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry walked to the arches that marked the border of the safe Colony. He caressed them thoughtfully, his fingers outlining every crease in the stone. Someday, they would be able to move outside of these borders and expand to the land above them. It may not even be in his lifetime, but he would do all he could to rebuild the world. Killing Voldemort hadn't been enough.

Tears leaked out his emerald eyes as he slid down the arch to sit on the ground. He cupped his head and rocked softly, embracing the memories inside him. They tore him apart, but they were all he had to remember the ones he loved. He had to come here to cry…the survivors in the colony couldn't see him like this – he was their savior, the strong one. He allowed each memory to run its course, sobbing the entire time.

_Dumbledore falling…it had been the beginning of the end. As he ran after Snape, hatred dashing unbridled through his veins, he had never imagined the truth. That Dumbledore, knowing about Draco's mission, had commanded Snape to make the Unbreakable Vow if asked… to protect Draco with the old man's life. He had seen something in Draco that nobody else could, but for what? Snape said Draco had been banished to somewhere unknown - that he would probably die within a few days. _

_Snape had been the most influential part of the Second War for the light side, save for the Golden Trio. As Dumbledore had foreseen, his "proven loyalty" for the Dark Lord had earned him a spot closer to the evil leader than even Lucius Malfoy. He was the one who pinpointed the Death Eaters for the assassins that would kill them off with a cold determination similar to that of their victims. Only Malfoy remained untouched. _

_The Order of the Phoenix had tried to save the innocents in the war, resulting in many of their deaths. Molly and Arthur Weasley had been at St. Mungo's when the Death Eaters had stormed the building, killing the helpless in hoards. They had killed two of the men in the hallway outside of one of the wards before being captured. Theirs was a public execution, an example for other "pureblood traitors". Harry remembered vividly the sobs of their children as their parents were slowly tortured. The pair had never screamed, only cried out their loving messages for those close to them. _

_Next, Voldemort's followers came after the children in Hogwarts. After they had entered the school once before, they managed to do it again. With Dumbledore gone, it had been easy. It had been right in the beginning of seventh year, right before Harry would have left to find the Horcruxs. Professor McGonagall had been the leader of the resistance within, and was one of the few surviving teachers. The screams of the younger children who couldn't defend themselves were shrill and bloodcurdling. The older students had gone into battle with looks of stone. They had seen and understood what the dark side had done to their families and friends, and were determined to get their revenge. Harry had been protected from all sides, a fact he remembered with pain. But it had been necessary. He needed to stay alive long enough to end this. _

_Neville's face was one of the ones Harry remembered best. His normally quivering, pudgy features were hard and frightening. Harry knew he was thinking of his parents as he marched towards the Death Eaters in front of him. He had managed to kill the older Goyle before a green light hit him in his chest, ending his life. Harry had almost collapsed then, but was held up firmly by Hermione and Ron, who flanked him on either side. _

_Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had been grouped together as they left their common rooms, and only a few had escaped before the lot of them had been escorted onto the grounds like animals and executed without any thought to their identity. Their sobs as they waited in line for death pierced the air. _

_The Slytherins who weren't joining the Death Eaters were led by Pansy Parkinson, a fact which had shocked Harry at the time but that he understood now. Her eyes had flashed with fury as she lashed out at her former classmates who had turned to the dark side, stunning or killing them without any apparent feeling. Her cold expression still struck fear in Harry. The group behind her was just as ferocious, and made up a large portion of the survivors. _

_The Gryffindors had, of course, been in front of and behind Harry, protecting him at any cost. Their bravery truly shone, as they grabbed classmates from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff who had escaped, shoving them into their ranks. Even as their peers collapsed next to them, they marched on and joined Pansy's group. The few remaining teachers who had survived the first wave also helped finally push the evil ones out of Hogwarts. _

_Harry felt again the relief, terror, and despair that had gripped all of the few survivors. But he only had eyes for one figure. Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman who had murdered Sirius, was lying stunned on the shining, blood red grass. Harry had silently walked over to her, just as she was beginning to rise. _

_Her eyes widened in terror as she awoke fully with him standing over her, his wand pointed at her heart. Her lips slowly rose in a sneer._

_"You can't do it, little Harry-boy…you have to mean it."_

_"You killed the only family member I ever had a chance to love." His voice had been surreal even to himself. His voice wasn't that cold, that hateful. Bellatrix's sneer had dropped off as she realized he meant it. As he said the words that would end her life, she shut her eyes, but the look of a person knowing death was about to claim them would haunt Harry until it came for him. _

_Hogwarts had ended then forever. All semblance of a normal life was shattered. The war raged on, with deaths everyday. Bill, Charlie, Fleur, almost all of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students, so many people had died. All of the members of the Order save for Lupin and Tonks had been brutally and publicly murdered. _

_Harry thought about the day Snape had been caught as a spy. It was Malfoy who had suspected him, mostly out of jealousy. But one day he got lucky, and found Snape talking to Moody. Their guard had slipped for a single moment, and both were going to pay. Moody was slaughtered first, burned until only his rolling eye remained. But Snape had directly betrayed Voldemort._

_Harry had never gotten close to Snape, but he knew the man was good inside his almost cruel demeanor. He had hung above the city for days, his eyes propped open with magic to dry and burn. Blind and helpless, he was subject to Voldemort attacking his mind over and over again. _

_Only when the man hung limp did the Death Eaters take him down, leaving him in the street for dead. Harry and Ron had dragged him to shelter, but the former teacher was beyond help. His skin was cracked and bleeding and his eyes were shriveled and useless. He was dehydrated to the point of choking on his own tongue, and his stomach had begun to eat itself in a desperate attempt at nourishment. His mental state was even more dismal. The once sharp, nearly genius mind was ravaged and destroyed. All he was able to do was scream occasionally as the images Voldemort has replaced his thoughts with ran through his mind again and again. _

_Still, Harry hadn't been able to end his life, and Snape was still with them physically today, although in no better mental state. Through the use of magic, they had created a feeding system similar to a Muggle IV, and nursed Snape at the Order's headquarters until that too had been destroyed, and then they had taken him with them to the Colony. _

Harry opened his eyes, unable to continue with his recollections. The faces of the dead loomed before him, and he slowly stood up, shaking with every movement. He couldn't let anybody else die.

He looked up to see Ginny running towards him, her pregnant belly hindering her movements only slightly. His anguish grew as he saw her face.

"Harry! It's Hermione!" The words cut through him, and he sobbed again into Ginny's hair.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**A/N: **Hey guys, thank you so much for the reviews so far it means a lot…and I'm going to address my first reviewers now, something I'm not going to do again in this way, although if you have any direct questions concerning the story or me, I'll try to answer them at the end of the chapters. Thanks so much again! And just so you know, my updating has nothing to do with the amount of reviews I get, I write for myself and not for reviews lol but they are so, so appreciated!

**Cathrun: **Happy Birthday on the 7th! Thanks so much for your continued support with this and CoL!

**Applekissis: **I'm glad you like the style so far! I hope it meets expectations!

**Goldenlioness1102: **Yeah, I agree with you…I think it takes some time and extreme circumstances for this shipping to happen, something I try to convey in every both my fics, although in this one it's going to be a LOT more extreme than in CoL. Thanks again!

**Justamuggle**: Yeah, they were talking through their minds; it will be explained better in a later chapter! Thanks so much for the review!

**Dragonchick29**: Happy New Years to you too! I'm glad you like it so far…Hmm... dragonchick doesn't apply to our own Draco/Dragon, ey?

**Pepermint Patti: **I'm glad you're looking forward to following this, I'll update as often as possible to make it a good experience hehe…

**Tzefira: **Oo! A double fan lol I'm updating every moment I have a chance! I'm even going to loose as much sleep as humanly possible! Thanks for the review!

**Draco's-Loyal-Longing: **I can't wait for the rest either! I'm so glad you like it!

**Caroling Graceless: **Don't worry you'll find out what the phrase means all in good time! But yes, it is Latin. (No cheating and looking it up though! Lol but it's already told in some part of the story looks mysteriously around) I'm so glad you liked it, and I'll be expanding more on the Final Battle scene throughout the story!

**Deathbychocolates: **thanks! I like your name by the way!

**SummerWrites: **Don't worry, It will continue in the dark tragedy/drama vein, and I really don't like fluffy happiness so that won't happen in the least! Thanks for your reviews here and on CoL!


	3. The Hate Lives

**Disclaimer: **Not mine!

Draco looked at the girl lying at his feet with silent shock. After he had summoned her successfully, he had been too ecstatic to carefully look at her face. That was until she had started shaking uncontrollably, forcing him to abandon his pleasure and try and tend to her. He had dropped to his knees and felt her burning skin. Something had bitten her wrist – the marks were unmistakable. He wrapped the wound with charmed leaves to suck out whatever poison was flowing through her veins. Only then had he moved the hair out of her pale face.

He barely remembered springing to his feet; the astonishment had been great enough to nearly render his mind useless. It was the Mudblood from Hogwarts…Granger. Even just the thought of her name made his mind begin to race back to his childhood, especially that final year where terror had haunted him around every corner, even within every part of his own body.

_Standing before Voldemort, Draco began to feel his resolve breaking down. When he was called to the Death Eater's meeting, pride had been the only emotion that had dared form. But feeling his new Lord's eyes bore into even the most private areas of his mind was the most violating and intimidating thing he had ever experienced. Doubts began to edge in and devour his pride. _

_Was he only here to die because of Lucius' mistake? Was the mission to kill Dumbledore not only a test but a death sentence? His mother thought so. _

_As the year passed, Draco felt his family's safety deteriorating. Voldemort would kill them all if he failed. But even so, as he stood with his wand outstretched in front of Dumbledore, he couldn't bring himself to utter those fatal words. When Snape had completed it for him, all he could do was run with the others. Every sound was blocked out by the ringing in his ears, and colors became washed out with grey. His Headmaster was dead, and it was his fault. _

Hermione moaned, startling Draco out of his memories. He turned his back on the girl, biting his lip. She hated him as much he hated her. Old prejudices and hatreds should be gone with the rest of his life, but they clung to him. He would never be a completely good person, and he could almost feel the darkness that tinged his soul. To have called to a Mudblood for help was completely against everything he had been brought up to believe in. And yet, unknowingly, he had.

Her reaction to him was probably going to be just as violent as his to her. She would vehemently blame him for her new fate, and although it _was_ technically his fault, he didn't want to put up with her petulant whining. As she stirred behind him, he leaned against the nearest tree. He would have just left her, but he didn't have the courage to venture into the wilderness that would surely destroy him at its first chance.

With a final groan, Hermione woke up. He kept his back to her, not wanting to see the confusion that would raise too many questions he didn't want to answer.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The first thing Hermione noticed when she woke up was the lack of sunlight. Fear assaulted her as thoughts of dusk entered her mind. She must have fallen unconscious and now nighttime was creeping in, ready to attack her with all its force.

She quickly rose to her feet, and gasped as she noticed the forest in front of her. It was completely dark within, and the leafy branches seemed to form a guard against whatever lurked in those shadows. The strong smell of rotting flesh seeped from her surroundings, and she backed away.

Suddenly, thoughts of her encounter inside the house came back to her, and she looked at her wrist, expecting to see a mangled bite crawling with infection. Instead, she found it neatly wrapped in leaves and finally noticed the cool, soothing feeling they were giving her injury. She slowly turned around, somehow knowing that her savior would be nearby. Her eyes widened as she saw the figure leaning against a tree, not facing her.

His back was naked, showing off his white skin marred by dirt and scars. He had only a cloak tied around his waist, and it was caked in the red dust that covered the ground they stood on. Blood was dried on his ankles, and she wondered what kind of injuries the cloak hid. His hair was silver, and hung down his back in a tangled curtain.

"Excuse me…do I know you?" She kept her voice low, not wanting to startle the stranger. He didn't flinch, but didn't turn towards her either. She walked slowly to him, and reached out to touch his shoulder.

"Don't touch me, Mudblood." The voice cut through her, and she drew back sharply, not wanting to believe it. She knew he hadn't killed Dumbledore, that he was a soul to be pitied, but she had never released her grudge towards him. He was the one who had introduced her to the prejudices that had eventually destroyed everything. He was the one who let the Death Eaters into the school the first time. Draco Malfoy. The name alone made her skin go cold.

He turned to face her, and his silver eyes met hers defiantly. His pale face had remained untouched by scars, but it was smudged with dirt. Even so, it was etched with the same haughtiness and coldness that it always had been, and Hermione dropped her gaze.

"How did I get here?" She focused on a spot over his shoulder, unable to meet his stare.

"I brought you…I've been coming to you for ages now. Not that I knew who you were, you were just the only presence I could locate." The last sentence was rushed, as if he wanted to remind both himself and her that he didn't want her with him.

"How?" Even through her growing anger, Hermione was still intrigued at the spellwork that would transport her to a completely different place without the summoner even being near her physical being.

"I don't completely know. Voldemort used the same spell to send me here, and I just connected with your mind somehow. You were weak for a moment, and finally I was able to cast it on you."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "So you just decided to bring me into what could be the most remote place in the entire world, where you have been trapped without a way to get out for three years now?"

Draco hardened, obviously expecting the argument. "It was the only thing I could think of. If I could connect with your mind, maybe there was a reason." He looked nervous at the last words, and visibly searched his own mind.

"Wondering why you 'connected' with a Mudblood?" Hermione turned completely away from him, disgusted. How he was still able to look at her as such a lower-class figure mystified her.

"Maybe." He seemed less sure of himself. "Whatever the reason, though, it worked, and you're here. So get over it. Besides, you would have died anyway, so what's the difference?"

Hermione halted at this. He was right, without the poison being withdrawn from her body; she would have either died or gone mad. She glanced at him, and a small look of triumph crossed his face. He knew she had realized he was right, and looked prepared to take advantage of the moment. Hermione cut him off.

"Well either way, I've let down everybody completely." She sat down heavily, tears threatening to overtake her.

Draco looked interested, and crouched next to her. "So there are others?" Hermione nodded, and told him about the war and the Colony.

By the end of her explanation, Draco was sitting, disbelief etched on his face. He had been banished before the deaths had reached their peak, before so many of his friends had died, his family had murdered so many innocents, and Voldemort had been killed at last. It was a lot of information to take in, and Hermione looked at him, her hatred put aside for a moment.

Her saw her sympathetic look, and cleared his throat. He wouldn't allow her to see any sign of weakness, even in the position they were in. She could use it against him at any time. "How many survived?"

"Almost a thousand. That's only in England, of course. Who knows about the rest of the world…we find survivors every now and then, but haven't for a while."

Hermione looked around the campsite, and gave a small smile as she saw her bag. She went over to it, Draco following her silently. She felt him staring at her back, and shivered slightly. If it suited him, he could kill her at any moment. He was taller, and his lean muscles were highlighted in his pale skin.

"What do you have in there?" He obviously had noticed it before, and Hermione wondered why he hadn't looked through it. Probably too startled by the presence of a Mudblood in his clearing, she thought with a sneer reminiscent of her companion.

"Supplies I was supposed to bring back to the Colony." She glanced back at Draco, unsurprised to see his eyes light up.

She pulled out her treasures, watching him carefully to make sure he didn't touch anything without her permission. She couldn't give him any more of an upper hand than he already had. "Speaking of supplies…what have you been using to stay alive at all?"

He unwillingly looked up from the food and other items, and motioned to a small pile next to the ashy fire pit in the middle of the clearing. She walked over and saw a small comb fashioned from twigs that he had obviously given up trying to use long ago. A toothbrush was made from a thistle attached to a twig, although no toothpaste was present. It was a long way from what he had grown up with, his family's wealth providing for every need or whim he had.

"I use my wand to get water and fire, but other than that, it's pretty useless. This forest soaks up a lot of magic, and when I use any it takes every ounce of energy I have. As for food, there are a couple fruit trees where the light can still come through, and occasionally, an animal wanders by that I can kill. Most of the inhabitants here you can't eat, though." He stopped short, obviously not wanting to talk about the sort of Creatures that lived in the forest. Hermione wondered if they were anything like those which haunted her world.

"Have you tried to leave at all?" At this, he looked at her once again, his eyes clouding over with dark memories.

"That's not something we should try."

"Well, we're going to need to at some point, aren't we? What else are we supposed to do? Just live here until one of us decides to kill the other one for a bit of food, and then just slowly pass on from whatever decides to take their life too? That's not much of a plan."

"Yeah, well it's worked for me for three years, Granger."

"It's worked for you? Then why did you call me here?" Draco only answered her with silence.

"Listen, Malfoy. Whatever is out there is going to either kill us or let us through. Either way it's better than just sitting around here. So if that's what you want to do, you can do it alone. I'm leaving in the morning." Her voice was steadier than she felt, as her eyes slid over the branches that hid the shadowed lands beyond.

**A/N: **Ok, I know this chapter didn't have too much happening, but more excitement will start very soon! But I have school tomorrow, so I have to get some sleep! So two people mentioned something about the end of chapter two being fluffy, and I'm not sure what they meant…all I could think of was Harry sobbing with Ginny, but Harry isn't a very strong person emotionally, as is seen in canon quite often. He doesn't quite know how to channel his emotions, so him taking comfort with Ginny is something he needs to do, especially after learning one of his best friends was in trouble. Or possibly Ginny being pregnant? This is not a fluffy thing, as to why…this will be explained better later, I don't want to give anything away too soon! Or maybe it's how they saved Snape's life? Again, this is setting up for some important stuff later. Don't get me wrong, I love criticism I'm just confused, so maybe somebody could explain it to me? I don't want this fic to seem fluffy at all, so thanks for the heads up, I just want to know why it seems that way. Thank you again for the reviews, you people are wonderful!


	4. Burning from Inside

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything but my wonderful reviews, thanks guys!

Harry stared at the small figure in front of him with horror. They had bewitched small statues to represent how safe each of the founders of the Colony were and Hermione's was now flickering with a dim glow of dark magic.

Harry raised his wand to his forehead and desperately tried to contact his friend, but was only met with silence. He clenched his fist in apprehensive frustration, and he felt a hand gently touch his shoulder in understanding. He looked back at Ginny, who had tears shining in her eyes.

"Will she be back?" He voice was quiet, and Harry knew she needed to hear that Hermione would return safety, even if they both knew it wasn't necessarily true. But instead of reassuring her, Harry only looked away from her and walked off roughly, leaving her alone to look at the ominous glow.

Once he reached his destination, Harry looked down on the cot that held his best friend. Ron's condition hadn't changed in nearly a year, and he was barely lucid enough to smile at Harry's arrival.

"Hermione?" The fragmented question was always the first on Ron's lips, and Harry couldn't bring himself to tell him of the menacing possibilities of their friend's fate. Instead, Harry only nodded and told him that Hermione said hello, and that she was still collecting supplies.

A small smile played on the red-head's lips, and his blue eyes closed as he drifted into the dreamless slumber he spent most of his time in. Harry's composed face collapsed into a deep frown as he looked at Ron's nearly translucent skin. He had been like this for so long, ever since the attack.

Harry reached down and gingerly lifted the white blanket that was covering Ron's skinny frame. He frowned as he looked at the scar that ran from the top left of Ron's pants all the way to the bottom right of his ribcage. They had healed the gash with magic, but the poison inside of Ron's body couldn't be touched. They had yet to find a surviving Healer capable enough to remove the evil venom. Hermione had been trying to find the solution in books she found on her trips out, but hadn't found anything yet. And now she may never. He shook his head, trying to banish those thoughts.

All of a sudden, a piercing scream rang out through the damp air. Harry sprinted outside of the crudely set-up medical tent, and saw many others running towards the sound. They made a path for Harry, who quickly overtook them.

As he ran toward the main camp, where tents were packed together in a desperate attempt to look like a civilized, he saw a circle of people hiding something within them. Harry reached the edge of this circle, and they quickly ushered him to the center. The first thing he saw was Ginny's face, white with shock and fear. Her hand was around her pregnant stomach protectively.

He looked to where she was staring, and his stomach turned over. Lying on a small cot was a young woman with black hair and sobbing eyes, clutching a shriveled baby. A man was stooped down next to her, obviously the father of the child. He had bloodied hands from delivering, his face was hard, and he was gazing at his baby with grief.

Not one child had been born successfully since the war. The same magic that had turned the Muggles into monsters still lingered in the air, and it did horrible things to the babies who weren't able to handle the surge of magic. This one was no different, although people had been hopeful that the magic that polluted the air had finally been diminishing.

Harry stepped forward, kneeling next to the couple, who looked at him with destroyed expressions. He turned his eyes to the baby, and the mother started sobbing again as she tilted the baby that had embodied all of her love and hope to Harry.

The eyes of the child were completely white, and its skin was dry and looked as if it felt like paper. Its tiny face was twisted into an expression of complete, excruciating pain. As the air had hit it, it had burned from the inside. Its scream was the one Harry had heard resonating through the Colony.

Harry looked away, briefly closing his eyes before looking at Ginny. Tears were shining in her eyes as she looked at the small family that could easily be her own future.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

His fingers ran over the rough bark. He had been staring into the shadows for hours. He knew they would meet again today, and that the darkness would welcome him once again.

The fire behind him warmed his back, but his front was as icy as he felt inside. He turned around, and looked at the girl sleeping by the fire. The flames made their fiery reflections on her face and danced through her hair. She looked completely vulnerable.

Draco felt the dragon within him rise, and he stepped towards the girl. He could imagine her mouth opening in a scream as his fingers grasped and tore at the tender flesh of her throat. The smell of hot blood would be intoxicating as it ran over his fingers freely. The light would slowly leave her eyes as they glared at him accusingly. He was his father, a pitiless killer. But he knew it wasn't true. He wouldn't be able to go through with it. As soon as she was awake, as soon as he realized she was human, no amount of hate could make him kill her. Images of the encounter with Dumbledore flashed through his mind.

He turned away, sickness threatening him tauntingly. He was weak. He deserved to be here, to be banished from anyone who could have possibly supported him.

He heard her turn over in her sleep and wanted to put out the fire, to let the Creatures get her while he stood nearby; watching them do what he could not. But the threat of darkness extended to him too, and the eyes that glared out from the dark didn't care whether it was pure or tainted blood they drank so greedily.

Draco pulled up his cloak, and looked at the blood he had never bothered to wash away. It was a reminder of what would come if they left his clearing. The wound had healed as much as possible, but the thinning red line still stood out sharply from his white skin.

_He could smell the sweat that poured down his face as he ran. It was the stench of fear. He had ventured into the shadows only for a couple of minutes before he felt them against his legs. When they hadn't attacked, he relaxed slightly, but the feeling of bones and blood against his skin made him want to scream. He illuminated his wand, and they quickly disappeared, unwilling to be bathed in the light. _

_Ten minutes later, he could feel the strength seep from his body as the magic was consumed hungrily by the trees around him. The light grew dimmer, and he could still not find a place to build a fire. _

_Suddenly, he felt completely peaceful, and allowed the light to go out completely. He felt the Creatures return, but he didn't care. They were his brothers. They all belonged in the dark, belonged to the sinister magic that kept them alive. _

_He felt them bite into his leg, and the spell was broken. He felt pain sear through every part of his body, and he screamed as it seemed like his veins were burning from the inside. And then he ran. He didn't know how he managed to find his way back to the dimly lit clearing, but had collapsed as soon as he got there, not allowing his horrified thoughts to eat through him. _

**A/N: **Thanks again to those who reviewed; it means so, so much to me. Again, if you have any questions about me or the story or any theories about Harry Potter in general, just leave me a review and I'll try to answer!

**BootstrapBoula: **Well, I think your question about Hermione's reaction to Ron's name was a little bit more explained in this chapter, but you'll find out exactly what happened to him a little later! Thanks for the reviews!


	5. The Trail of Death

**Disclaimer: **Nothing is mine :(

As the sunlight replaced the heat of the fire, Hermione opened her eyes. She gasped as she saw Draco, who was sitting half in darkness, with glinting eyes staring at her with an almost primal hunger. They sat like that as time passed them by slowly, until Hermione closed her eyes, willing the fear that rested in her heart to disappear.

She stood up, and walked over to her bag of supplies. She felt his eyes follow her, and her heart started to beat faster as she thought about being alone with him in the dark forest. He had changed from the childishly malicious boy she once knew, and become a stranger who she couldn't read in the least. The only thought that comforted her was that he hadn't killed Dumbledore, a man who he had hated even more than her. But had his time alone vanquished even that sign of goodness within him?

She took some of the dried food she had found in the cupboard and, using her wand, filled it with water. She felt the pull from the forest that Draco had described as she did it, and dread crawled up her spine once again. How would they survive if even the simplest spell took so much effort to cast?

She heard the soft crunch of leaves behind her, and tensed as she heard Draco's hushed breaths behind her. She turned around, and saw him eying her food greedily. He bent down, and picked up some of it, copying her preparation.

"Will you be ready soon to leave?" Her voice was steady, but as he turned his icy eyes on her, and she saw the fear in them, she felt her fingers begin to shake.

"I'll be ready when I say I am, Mudblood." He quickly gulped down his food, and before Hermione could unleash her anger on him, he had retreated to the other end of the clearing with her bag.

She kept her eye on him, afraid that he might just take off with everything she had to survive with. She watched as he took out her book, and with a roll of his eyes, dropped it carelessly in the dirt. Then, he found the scissors that she had collected for cutting bandages for the patients in the Colony. A small grin appeared on his face, and he grabbed the hair that was tangled down his back. Swiftly, he cut most of it off, until it was reminiscent of his old hairstyle, with tendrils hanging in his face.

He continued using her supplies, and she continued watching, only moving toward him to save her book. Finally, he appeared to be done, and shrunk the bag with a flick of his wand, only closing his eyes for a moment to recover from the dizziness the use of magic came with. Then, he stashed it in his robes. Hermione saw the triumphant gleam in his eyes. He knew that whoever carried the supplies would have the upper hand.

"Give me back my things, Malfoy."

"I don't think so. I'm ready now." His voice was calm and sure of itself, compared to Hermione's, which was laced with anger at the theft of her provisions.

She advanced towards him, her wand out. As she got closer, she had to tilt her head up to not break her gaze with the silver eyes, and his overwhelming height was making her resolve crumble only slightly. She held her wand to his chest, so that it was touching it slightly.

A growl rose in Draco's throat at the threat, and he lashed out, grabbing Hermione's wrist painfully. He twisted her around, and shoved her against the tree behind her.

"Don't try anything, Mudblood. I called you here; I have control over this situation. Your magic isn't going to be enough to save you. Got it?"

Hermione's eyes were narrowed, and she was about to retort, but her words caught in her throat at what she saw out of the corner of her eye. It was a faded Dark Mark, forever emblazed on Draco's pale forearm. Suddenly, what he might be capable of was brought to the front of her mind, and she only nodded mutely. He turned around, and Hermione clenched her fists. This wasn't over.

He hesitated at the edge of the clearing, and Hermione bit her lip at the obvious fear coursing through his posture. He pushed back the leaves, and looked at the girl behind him.

"We have to rotate lighting our wands. Once one of us gets too tired, the other one will take over. I'll start. Hopefully we'll find another cleared area before nighttime where we can build a fire. Not that we'll know when night even comes."

Hermione nodded, and Draco murmured, "_Lumos_". Bright light erupted from his wand, and Hermione heard the scurrying sounds of Creatures trying to escape the light. It was a sound that would haunt them throughout their journey.

Draco stepped into the engulfing shadows, and Hermione followed closely behind him, afraid to be out of the glow of his wand for even a moment. She felt hundreds of eyes staring at her from the hidden branches and bushes, and tried only to concentrate on the sound of Draco's feet making a path through the rotting leaves beneath them.

As time passed, she found herself almost completely pressed up against the slow-moving man in front of her. The light was dimming on his wand, and his eyes stared straight ahead. She touched his shoulder, and he turned toward her, too tired to make a remark about her hands on him. She lit her wand, and he nodded, letting his go out and moving behind her.

---------------------------------------------------------

_You will know us by the trail of dead._

The voice slithered through Draco's mind as he tried to concentrate on the light moving in front of him.

_We will make you strong. We will help you kill. _

Hermione was looking back at him periodically, and every time her throat was turned toward him he could almost smell the blood that ran through the veins.

_The blood will run down her face in tears. _

Images of death were flashing through Draco's mind. Rotting flesh dripping from twisted faces, insects eating through the remaining skin, eyes staring forever at nothing.

_We will make you immortal. You will be everything you've ever wanted to be. _

The metallic scent of blood grew stronger in the air the deeper they went into the forest, and Hermione was beginning to cringe…her energy was waning.

_You will control the light very soon. Join us in the darkness, Draco. _

She stopped suddenly, and in Draco's dazed state, he nearly ran into her. She looked back at him, and motioned to him to light his wand. Her eyes were growing dull.

_You can taste her blood; just follow our path of death. _

Draco lit his wand and stepped into the lead. He felt something drip onto his face, and looked up. White, dead eyes stared back at him from the small animal hung in the tree above him. He looked forward once again, and saw another crushed body hung on a branch to his left. He walked toward it hesitantly.

_Smell the sweet smell of demise, Draco, and come to us. _

He stepped more assuredly, and he felt as if his body was not his own. Something was drawing him, someone wanted him. He followed the death that lurked along their trail, and the scent of decay hung enticingly around him and the girl following his lead, her footsteps heavy with fatigue. She couldn't hear them.

_Let your hate drive you, young one. You will have power at last. _

Suddenly, light appeared that wasn't from his wand. Hermione gasped, and they both stepped into a brightly lit clearing. The trees were hung with luscious fruit, and there was a spring flowing through it. Hermione dropped to her knees by the water after grabbing food greedily from the trees, and drank thirstily.

_Rest now. Tomorrow we will meet. _

Hermione was curled up with sleep by the stream, a half-eaten, bright red apple clutched in her hand. Draco plucked a golden pear from the tree nearest to him. As his teeth sank in, sweet juice flooded his mouth. Eagerly, he ate the rest of the pear. Reality seemed dim, and the sensations that the tender food and crisp water gave him were almost an illusion to his cloudy mind.

_Sleep. _

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Something was crawling on her hand.

Hermione woke with a start. Her mouth tasted like rot, and slime coated her throat. She gagged, and opened her eyes in horror. They landed on the apple in her hand, and her scream pierced the damp morning air.

Maggots swarmed over the brown, slimy, decaying fruit. She threw it to the ground, and turned to the stream to wash her hand and cleanse her mouth. A stifled sob was the only sound that was able to escape as she began to throw up.

The stream which had looked so clear the night before was dark green and smelled like a sewer. Dead fish floated on the top, their eyes white with death. The thin light that protected them from the other Creatures was dim, but it was enough to show the rotting corpses that littered the clearing.

Hermione heard a sound behind her, and turned around quickly, her eyes wild.

"It's time to move on." Draco's voice was hollow. He had a piece of fruit in his hand, and as Hermione watched with stunned dread, he raised it to his lips and bit it. The pale maggots showed as he chewed, and Hermione's knees buckled once again.

He seemed not to notice her revulsion, and turned his face away from her, lighting his wand once again.

"Draco." Her voice was harsh, and he looked at her again.

Her heart seemed to stop as the light from his wand illuminated his face. His eyes were completely white, and his face had no emotion in it. When she didn't speak, he turned again and started walking into the shadowed darkness.

"No! Please, Draco." She was sobbing as she begged, but he didn't turn again. She scrambled to her feet and ran after him, afraid to be near him, but even more terrified to be left alone with only death as a companion.

**Please, Please Review! **


	6. Her Touch Burns

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything you recognize. The plot is all mine though!

_We will make you whole. You are close, Draco. Your hunger will end. _

Eyes were flashing from the shadows that threatened to envelop the two lean figures moving through the darkness. Draco was drawing from a supply of strength he didn't know he possessed to keep himself in the lead with the light. Every time Hermione touched his shoulder to try and take over his position, he would shake her off with an animalistic snarl. Her touch felt like fire against his cold skin.

The girl behind him was only an ungrateful Mudblood, as the voices reminded him over and over. She was only meat. She had rejected their offering of the perfect clearing, marring it with her presence. But they would get their revenge.

He knew he was closer, and he could see cloaked figures moving silently along them through the winding trail of dead animals. Hermione gasped at the first sight of them, and clutched onto Draco's pale arm. He had nearly screamed as her fingers threatened to burn through his skin, and had thrown her to the ground. He had looked at her then, and her amber eyes met his. At that moment, his head had seemed to clear, and the voices faded. His stomach turned, and he had lifted his eyes from hers with a start, only to connect them with gleaming silver ones that lurked beneath one of the figures held back by their light.

_Join us now. We will take you the rest of the way. _

Draco nodded silently, and reality slipped away once more. He let his wand go out and the instant the darkness consumed them, long fingers snaked over his shoulders. Hermione shrieked and Draco curled up his lips, knowing that they had reached out to her as well. But suddenly light flooded the clearing once again, Hermione's face fierce in the glow coming from her wand. A hiss echoed through the trees, and the grip on Draco's shoulder was relinquished.

"Draco! Come back to me!" Hermione stepped over to Draco, fear twisting her features into a hard mask. He drew away from her, afraid that she would burn him again with her searing touch.

_Take away your prey's light. You will get to stand over her; rip through her…she will be your first. _

Draco shook his head, trying to clear away the confusion in it, and just focus on the task in front of him. As he raised his hand, he stared at it in wonder. He wasn't directing it completely, it looked like somebody else's hand in front of him, reaching out to grab Hermione's wrist. She started, and clutched her wand as she backed away from him. He felt, rather than saw, the shadows creeping over his back.

Terror was making Hermione's eyes glow, and Draco shrunk from her as light poured around her, protecting her from his icy touch. He snarled and circled her, staring at the weak skin that covered her veins with primal lust. She whimpered, and the light dimmed. Draco saw his chance and pounced on her, pinning her underneath him. As they stared at each other in the final moments of light, her body melted his.

_She is yours. _

The voice was hissing in his ear, and finally Hermione heard it.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Ginny stared at the statue of Hermione. The dark glow pouring from it was increasing, turning into a complete veil of black. She knew her friend was still alive, for the statue would crumble at the moment of her death. She shuddered as she imagined what kind of horrors Hermione was experiencing.

She felt a hand on her back, and she turned around to see Pansy's eyes coolly looking into her own. The pale girl's black hair was neatly framing her face, and she looked as composed as ever. She had changed during their sixth from the whiny Slytherin brat everyone had once known, and with good reason.

"Draco is still alive, Ginny." A tear escaped, and ran down her normally stony face. Ginny bit her lip, and clutched the other girl's hands in her own.

"How do you know?"

"I felt him. Finally…I felt him." Ginny smiled at the girl, knowing that she had been searching for a sign from her friend for years, using a long-distance form of Legilimency tirelessly and fruitlessly against Draco's tightly sealed mind. But Pansy shook her head. "Something is horribly wrong. All his defenses are down, but his mind is blank. I can't see where he is, but it's somewhere unreachable."

Pansy's eyes fluttered shut, and she reached her had up, pressing it against her temple. "It hurts to connect with him; it's as if something else is trying to keep me out."

Ginny reached out and touched her unexpected friend's face gently. "It's a step, Pansy. Hopefully one that will lead to you getting through to him soon."

Pansy nodded, and looked over Ginny's shoulder at the veiled statue. "Do you think Hermione will be alright?"

Ginny nodded, tears springing to her eyes. "She's the strongest witch I know. I just hope that's enough."

Pansy comforted Ginny the best that she could, and then laid her hand on the ever growing stomach that the red-head was sporting. "How much longer now?"

"Two months, maybe a little longer." Ginny's voice was barely a whisper as she stared at her stomach. She was the next woman due; there would be nobody else to test the air before her own child. She knew this baby was the hope of the Colony now. Surely the child of their Savior would be strong enough to withstand the magic in the air…but Ginny still felt dread at the thought of the birth.

"Everything will be ok, Ginny. It has to be." Ginny nodded tightly at Pansy's words, afraid to speak due to the sobs that would accompany it. Pansy squeezed her shoulder once more and left, leaving Ginny alone with only her thoughts.

_Pansy had approached Harry after the battle, rage still burning in her black eyes. She explained to him why she was on his side; why she was determined to fight against the Lord that so many of her friends had turned to. _

_It was purely for Draco. She saw how her friend slowly crumbled that year underneath Voldemort's hand, and although he had never told her what his task was, she knew it was destroying him slowly. Eventually, all that was left of him was a shell. _

_She was unwavering in her main undertaking, to find Draco and get her friend back fully, but on the way she was one of Harry's most useful warriors. _

Ginny shook her head, not wanting to think more of Pansy's contributions, because that would force her to think of the day that had changed everything.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione heard the slithering voices all around her, whispering promises of death and power. She didn't want to open her eyes, but her mind forced her to look at the beings around her as her hand groped for the wand in her robes. Finding it, she allowed herself a small sigh of relief before a glimpse of what surrounded her took her breath away completely.

It was only light enough to catch the faintest out lines of the white-skinned wraiths that circled her and Draco, who was beside her, still unconscious. As she caught the gaze of a pair of hooded, silver eyes, she whimpered low in her throat. A black cape covered the figure, allowing only those two gleaming points to show.

She felt the hatred rise within her from some unknown area, and suddenly she wanted to kill anything that came near her. A movement directed her attention to the pale boy at her feet and she stared with awe at the blood that pumped through the translucent skin at his wrists. Something rebelled though, and she felt the light magic rise within her in protest of the deathly thoughts that were running through her darkening mind.

Draco stirred again and sat up, and Hermione felt a small rise of hope at the fact his eyes were no longer completely white, but shone as silvery as the creatures that were around them. He looked at her, and his face shone with an emotion Hermione couldn't read. Hunger lurked beneath anything else, a ravenous desire for something known only to him.

"Can you hear them?" His eyes shifted to the figures that were slowly closing in on them as he spoke, his voice an awed whisper. Hermione only shook her head in response – all she could hear was indecipherable hissing. The only words she had been able to understand still haunted her. The creature had told Draco that she was his.

"What do you want with me, Draco?" He looked at her, a lethal smile playing on his lips.

"Why are you calling me by my first name?"

"It seems to get your attention better." Her voice was openly defiant, but it quavered slightly at his cold features.

"They told me you would be my first kill." The creatures in the forest seemed to laugh, their pointed teeth flashing even in the dim light.

Hermione paled as Draco began to move toward her. "No…Draco, you aren't a killer. Remember Dumbledore…"

He snarled, his marble features marring horribly with the expression. "I was weak. They are going to make me strong, give me power."

"Do you honestly believe that? They put you in some sort of trance…they made you eat rotted food under the illusion it was perfect. Think what else they could do."

"No! You just couldn't see its perfection, you filthy Mudblood…"

_Kill her now…_

Hermione heard the voices as they joined together silkily to give her a death sentence. Draco pulled himself up, so that he was standing over her, proclaiming his superiority. Hermione traced her wand lightly with her trembling fingers.

Draco pulled out his wand, and held it at arms length so that it was pointed at her heart.

_No…taste the blood that will run from her body._

Draco hesitated before putting his wand away and picking up a sharp stick from the ground. Hermione froze as he knelt beside her, tracing her skin with the pointed end before pressing just hard enough for blood to rise to the surface before trickling slowly out of the wound. He stared at it before running his finger through it.

Her dark blood contrasted with his white skin perfectly, and it glistened with strange power as he gazed at it in shock.

"Were you expecting it to look different from yours?" Her question was soft enough so that he could barely hear her but he closed his eyes gently, letting her know that her assumption was right.

She watched as he waged a war with himself, tearing his now open eyes from the blood to the figures who were watching silently around them. Eventually he shook his head, and turned back to Hermione, tracing the thin skin on her throat with a fingernail. She felt the pressure increase, but right before he cut through, he hesitated, an expression of defeat on his face. It was enough for Hermione.

**A/N:** If you like it or if you don't just please review it means so much to me to know that people are appreciating, or even just reading and creating opinions of my writing. Thank you so much to those who do!


	7. His Call

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything you recognize!

_There was a mountain. Completely white, it towered above her. Hermione walked toward it as the snow fell around her, blanketing everything in quiet and deadly silence. She looked over her shoulder and saw eyes gleaming in the forest she was leaving behind. _

_Something moved to her right, it was a centaur with haunted eyes. He bowed, but his eyes remained on her, watching her. He gave a small smile, and Hermione saw pointed teeth flashing. She looked ahead quickly, following the snowy clearing that was a path to the mountain in front of her. They wouldn't be able to get her there. There was something more powerful there. Something that would keep them away._

_As she got closer, she saw a city engraved in the smooth side of the mountain. The people were pale wraiths with flowing blond hair and piercing blue eyes. They glided over the ground as if their feet were disconnected with the earth. Every now and then Hermione could feel them looking at her, their eyes finding the secrets she held so dear. Eventually they all watched her as she walked slowly towards what she knew to be her goal – the gaping, ice-lined mouth of a cave leading into the mountain. _

_Silence filled the air, enveloping Hermione in its oppressive binds, as the wraiths watched her, laughing without sound. Their skin was translucent, and as she passed them she could see the blood moving through their veins. Some reached out as if to touch her, but only got close enough to grin with their pointed teeth at her shudder. _

_She faced the dark cave in front of her, not daring to look closer at the creatures surrounding her. She felt the evil within it, but it was drawing her. It was too strong. She would finally meet him. _

Hermione woke up with a start. Her head throbbed with the effort it took to sit up, and she tried to get her surroundings. The presence that had haunted her dreams had faded, but she could still feel it…him…in the back of her mind. She didn't know who he was, but she could feel his call bind her heart in strings of evil. And she wanted to meet him.

A sharp pain through her wrist forced Hermione to regain reality, and she looked down. She was tied to a stake behind her with leather binds around her wrists. She stood up, wincing at the pain that came with dragging her wrists up the rough wood. She looked around her, squinting with the effort of trying to make out shapes in the dim light.

She saw Draco, tied the same way she was, and cringed at the blood that was dried on this forehead. The last thing she remembered was lunging at him when he hesitated, slamming a small rock into his forehead. Hands had grabbed her then, and the slithering cold that had accompanied them seemed to seep through her skin, into her veins, running through her body and turning it into ice. Then her world had faded.

A low moan escaped Draco's lips, and she watched as he struggled against his binds, and then as his body went limp with defeat. He looked at her, and she could see the despair written on his face.

"I was weak again. I always will be."

"Not being a killer doesn't make you weak, Draco. It makes you stronger."

He turned away from her, climbing unsteadily to his feet. "You _would_ say something like that, Mudblood."

She scowled, but didn't respond for several moments as she tried to regain her composure. "Fine, go on mourning and debasing yourself. I'm sure it'll get you incredibly far. As for me, I'm going to try and figure out what the hell your little friends want with us."

"They knew I would fail." His voice was weak. "They want you. I don't know why, but they wanted me to bring you to them. They said I could kill you…but they knew. They knew I couldn't do it."

"Who is _them_, exactly?"

"Isn't it obvious? They want blood, they kill, they live in the deepest part of forests they can…vampires."

Hermione sucked in sharply. "Are you sure?"

"There's no other explanation. They…they wanted me to taste your blood."

As her stomach churned with the thought, Hermione watched as Draco tried to maintain his normally cold composure.

"But it's not just them; they want you for a reason. I don't know why, but they sounded a little desperate."

Hermione felt the ice return to her blood, and clenched her hands viciously. Suddenly, low hissing filled air. She closed her eyes, not wanting to face her fate.

The sounds of gliding robes and hissing grew louder. Finally, silence overtook them once again. Hermione kept her eyes firmly closed, and what seemed like hours ticked by. Abruptly, Hermione felt a long fingernail trace the side of her face.

_Open your eyes. _The voice was more in her mind then actually spoken out loud, and it felt like it was filling her, filling everything near it. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked at the creature in front of her. Its face was gaunt, the white skin pulled tightly against a bony frame. Its eyes were silver, but not like Draco's. While her companion's eyes were stormy, like clouds bordering on a storm, this creature's were nearly white. He lifted his pale lips slightly, just enough so that Hermione could see the fangs that shined beneath them.

_Release the boy_. Draco yelped as his binds unfurled, and he dropped to the ground. The creature didn't move his eyes from Hermione's, but he spoke to Draco.

_You still have a choice. You can join us, become strong and able to kill. But it will come with a price. You will give up your humanity forever. _Hermione saw the pain that flickered over the vampire's face._ You will never love. You will never see the light again. _

The pain left the creature's features as he moved forward with his speech, and was replaced with steely triumph. _But you will have more power than you ever imagined. You will be able to command everything in the forest with a single thought. You will be able to kill and taste the blood that gives all things life, you will take your prey's life and it will become a part of you. You will be connected with The Power, and the One that yields it. You will never again be cold, rejected. You will be our brother, and we will protect and accept you. _

Draco was walking closer to the vampire, and Hermione could see his face twisting with the decision he would have to make. "And if I decide not to join you?"

_You will join the girl. _Hermione's eyes widened at the sneer that painted the pale face in front of her. Her fate was obviously not one that would be desired by any.

"What are you going to do to me?"

_You will be sent to him. You know him already. I have seen the way you shake when you dream. He has visited you. _

"Why?" She heard the pleading note in her voice, but the vampire disregarded it.

_He feels your power. It is not as strong as some of the sources we have sensed outside of the forest, but you are the most powerful he has ever had a chance to take… _

Hermione felt fear course through her at these words, and her skin felt as though it was crawling. "What does he want with me?"

_You will see._

"What if I go?" Draco sounded weaker as his choices weighed against each other.

_He will deal with you as he sees fit. _

Finally, the white eyes left Hermione's as he turned slightly, and she sagged against the stake.

_We will send you to him in the morning. You will follow the path we will make for you. We can not come with you, for our hunger is too great to resist at times, and if we kill you he will destroy us. However, if you stray from the path, we will find you...and there are ways to make you obey. _

Hermione nodded, her fear dulling as she realized her inevitable fate. She would meet him at last. The creature from her dreams…the part of her that was lifting in primal joy at the thought scared her the most.

Suddenly, the vampire swung back to face her, his teeth flashing.

_He promised me a reward though, a small bite. Your power will join with my own._

Before she had time to comprehend what he meant, his lips were against her throat. She screamed as sharp teeth bit through her flesh, and she felt her hot blood gush into his mouth. The pain was sweet, and ecstasy ran through her veins, warming the coldness that had frozen her into marble.

Even as he drank, the vampire could talk to her. _I knew you would like it. All of our victims do. It keeps them from struggling. _He pulled himself away unwillingly.

_I can feel your magic. _He stared down at his hands, flexing his fingers and smiling at the newfound power within them. Her blood dripped from his lips, and he licked it leisurely with his tongue.

He looked at her again, and she saw the red that was tingeing his white eyes. He advanced towards her again.

_I see why he wants you…_

He caressed her face again, and Hermione saw Draco out of the corner of her eye, staring entranced at the scene in front of him.

_I need more. _With this, a growl erupted from the creature's throat, and he lunged at Hermione, his lips hungrily connecting with the punctures in her neck once more.

Hissing filled the air as his companions tried to tear him off, afraid of the repercussions that would come with Hermione's death. But their leader threw them off, Hermione's power combining with his own in a lethal mix.

Hermione felt her strength wean as he sucked at her neck, but abruptly he stopped. She whimpered as the cold air stung the bite, and was only able to see the light that flooded the clearing before everything went black.

---------------------------------------------------------

_Thank you, Draco. _The whispers floated through the air as the vampires nursed their leader, who had gotten a full blast of light from Draco's wand. Hermione was crumpled on the ground, seemingly forgotten.

He didn't know what had made him pick up his wand and light it, whether it was the impending destruction of the vampires if Hermione died, or the fact that his only human companion would be gone forever. He slowly walked towards her small form, and kneeled beside her.

Who wanted her? And how did she know to be afraid of him? The confused thoughts fled through his mind as they whirled with his decision. Would he stay here with the vampires…would he become one of them and gain all the power he had always wanted? Or would he venture with the Mudblood to meet her fate?

Hermione's eyes opened, and Draco noticed how dull they were. The amount of blood the vampire had taken was enormous. She would live, but she would be weak for days. Walking away from her wouldn't be right…but it would go along with what he had always been taught, what he had always yearned for. During their school years, all he had been able to do was wish death upon her and her friends.

_You will give up your humanity forever. _The words echoed in his mind. Would he take the chance to desert her, to hurt her, by giving up who he really was? Would he be driven by the animalistic hunger that drove the vampires around him?

She had said to him that not being a killer made him stronger. He had laughed. But was there truth in her words? Through love her and her friends had destroyed the strongest killer their world had ever seen.

"Draco." Her voice was pleading, asking him not to become one of them. It filled him with disgust.

"Don't plead…it's unflattering."

"What are you going to choose?"

At her words, Draco felt the eyes of the vampires turn to him, waiting for his response.

Silence seemed to scream, time seemed to crawl.

**A/N: **Please, please, please review! Sorry about the wait by the way, I'll update sooner next time!

**justamuggle: **I'll explain more about that soon!

**Moechae: **ha…he better be…not that he'll ever see this…lol

**Summer: **Well…this one I got as I was falling asleep one night…not sure how it happened actually…

**THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED! **


	8. Fiery Eyes

**Disclaimer: **Nothing you recognize belongs to me. Only my plot!

_Ginny ran through the enveloping darkness, her lantern piercing only the space directly around her. The night was alive, clawing at her stomach, wanting to rip the child from her womb. Abruptly a shape appeared in front of her, and she almost ran into it before she managed to stop. _

_Something about the long, dark hair that was tumbling in tangles around the girl's shoulders was familiar. "Hermione?"_

_Relief tainted with unnamable dread seeped through Ginny as Hermione slowly turned to face her. The relief fled in fright and her scream stabbed the air as she looked at her friend. Fire danced in the girl's eyes and blood trickled from them in a horrible, slow stream. _

_"I am going to him." The words were quiet, laced with a terrible certainty that chilled the blood running through Ginny's veins. The red-head didn't know the man Hermione spoke of, but when the girl referred to him, it seemed as if the night shifted in anticipation. _

_Suddenly, a hand appeared out of the darkness and wrapped itself around Hermione. A cloak hid the man behind her, but his eyes glared into Ginny, causing pain to rip itself through her. She fell to her knees, and Hermione looked down at her whimpering friend with cool indifference. The blood continued to drench her face, but the fire was gone from her eyes. Now they were an icy white, and when she smiled, pointed teeth revealed themselves to her. _

_Another shape joined the two figures, and Ginny gasped. Draco Malfoy stood next to the cloaked man, fear etched into his features, strikingly out of place next to the two marble statues beside him. When he spoke, she saw blood stained teeth, and it seemed to gurgle in his throat. His throat looked mangled, and the skin seemed to hang off in shreds barely concealed by his dark cloak. _

_"Let us go, Ginny. It is too late now."_

_"No!" At her defiance, the eyes that shined from behind the man's hood narrowed, and she saw a flash of his teeth as he grinned. Releasing Hermione, he walked over to Ginny and knelt next to her. The air that surrounded him was so cold it seemed to freeze even Ginny's blood. _

_"None will refuse me." At that, the long fingered hand stretched out and rested itself firmly on Ginny's bulging stomach. Pain shot through her once again, but this time a haunting scream accompanied it that was not her own. _

_It was the scream of a dying baby. _

Gasping for air, Ginny shot up, her eyes wide with terror. She clenched her arms around her, and felt tears drip down her face and land on her exposed skin. Her flesh was warm to the touch, but was not enough to melt the ice that still ran through her.

The night was silent, except for Harry's quiet breathing beside her. She tried to stand in the cramped tent, pouring herself a cup of water from the pitcher on their small table. She raised it to her lips, not noticing her trembling hands. The voice echoed through her mind. _None will refuse me._

The voice had seemed to be everywhere at once, coursing through her body at the same time as it shook the night around her. It was cold, with a hiss that was unlike Voldemort's, not serpentine, but more humanly lethal.

"Ginny?" Harry's voice was weary but concerned. Ginny quickly wiped her tears on the back of her hand, and turned to face him, a forced smile frozen on her lips.

"You can't hide from me that easily." At his soft words, her mask fell, and she lowered herself beside him, sobs racking her body. "Is it the baby?"

Ginny wanted to explain the dream, but something kept it back. Hermione's cruel look was still engraved in her mind, and she didn't want to tell Harry about it. She simply nodded, the salt from her tears burning her mouth accusingly. As she closed her eyes against him, she could see the burning eyes once more.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione winced as sharp fingernails dug into her back. She felt blood drip from the pierced skin, sliding down her back with sick warmth.

_You were meant to come here._ As the words crawled through her, she twisted her head back to look at the vampire leading her through the thick forest. _You will know how to get to him. We will know where you are always. You will not get away. _

She turned back around, trying to rid herself of the image of pale dead eyes and stretched skin. She stared at Draco's silver hair instead. When he declared that he was accompanying her, he had barely been able to meet her eyes. She was sure the motives for his companionship had nothing to do with amiable feelings for her, but she was grateful all the same. Traveling alone would only allow her more time to think of who her destination held.

The hand finally left her shoulder, and the vampire whispered in her ear so that Draco couldn't hear him. _Go now. We have made a trail for the beginning, but you know the way. _

Glancing at the cleared path in front of her, she noticed that an eerie mist lit the area she was going towards. _You can see it, can't you? The boy can't. It will lead you. He wants the boy now too, there is something special about him as well, so do not lose him._

Then, the wraith was gone. Draco glanced back at her, and puzzlement furrowed his brow. "How are we supposed to know the way?"

"I know," she paused, not wanting to admit she could see the way to their fate, "they told me." She knew he wouldn't believe her timid excuse, but his only reaction was to glance at her distastefully and motion her to the front.

"I guess you'll be leading, then." She nodded curtly, and stepped in front of him, ignoring his sneer as she passed. She stared at the mist entwining around her legs. The thin trail emitted a soft glow that was at the same time comforting and terrifying. Tortured faces seemed to form out of the silvery fog, staring at her with hateful expressions contorted with agony. Unidentifiable whispers came from everywhere around her, and she could feel eyes glaring out from the dark trees. Watching her, and waiting silently to attack.

Hours passed, and her legs began to burn with the effort of carrying her over the rough terrain they had reached once the vampire's trail had ended. The mist still formed a cool path to follow, but Hermione's vision was blurred with exhaustion.

"We have to stop soon." Her voice cracked with disuse – they hadn't spoken at all since they had started out in earnest. When Draco didn't reply, she looked back at him, and he nodded tiredly.

As soon as she formed a clear thought in her mind of finding a place to sleep, a clearing seemed to form itself in front of them. The silence around them was deafening. Every creature that rustled the bushes as they walked past was absent here. She stepped into the clearing, and saw a fire burning in the center. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt His presence.

"We can't stay here."

"Are you insane, Mudblood? I can barely walk, and I've seen the way you stumble at every turn. We have to sleep, and get some food."

She nodded with resignation, but noted the dread that pooled in her stomach like a serpent ready to strike. Draco pulled out her bag, and enlarged it. He pulled out some of the dry contained food and conjured a bit of water to heat it with. When he had heated it completely, he ate by the fire, the flames dancing in his eyes. The sight made something stir uneasily within Hermione, her mind touching on some memory of a dream she couldn't completely grasp.

As she prepared her own food, Hermione studied Draco out of the corner of her eye. He was handsome, but the years of isolation had etched into him a hardness that was frightening. He had hesitated before killing her, but she didn't think that hesitation would have developed into complete abandonment. His expression now held no fear, only angry doubts.

"Why were you banished?" Her voice seemed to rouse him out of the thoughtful stupor he was in, and he slid his eyes over to hers coolly.

"Why should I tell you, Granger?" He drawled her name as cruelly as he ever had in school, and she felt her muscles tense with barely controlled annoyance.

"Because we are going to be stuck together for a long time, and we might as well get to know a little bit about each other."

He scowled at her. "I don't want to know anything about you."

"Fine. Suit yourself." Despite her exhaustion, Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out _The Odyssey_. Opening it to the first page, she read, "Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns, driven time and again off course, once he had plundered the hallowed heights of Troy."

She smiled quietly. _Driven time and again off course. _The words rang in her mind, the poetry replacing the anxious fear that lurked inside her with still serenity. She felt eyes on her, and looked up to see Draco gazing at the book in her hands.

"I haven't read a book in three years." His voice was quiet, but the sorrow within it rang clear.

"Do you want to read it with me?" The offer stuck in her throat painfully, and she waited for the lashing comeback that she knew would follow.

"Would you mind?" She looked up sharply, surprise softening her features. She moved closer to him, and watched as he hungrily sought out the words on the page.

"You rolled your eyes when you first saw this." He looked unwillingly up from the words, and bit his lip.

"Well, now you know…it's my weakness. Always has been. My father…" He cut himself off. "Whatever. I didn't mean it, I just figured if you left it there I could take it later."

She let whatever he was going to say go. He would never trust her enough to tell her the complete truth, and she reciprocated those feelings in full.

They sat by the fire reading until Hermione could barely keep her eyes open. As she slipped into sleep, the fiery eyes that stared at her with dangerous mirth in her dreams were finally absent, replaced by a calm sleep.

She only woke when she felt a cold hand caress her cheek. Her amber eyes flew open, and met completely black ones.

**A/N: **Please, _please_ review! Oh, and voting is open at the Dramione Awards, where this story and A Conflict of Love are nominated. The link is on my author page, please vote if you like my story! Thanks!


	9. The Endless Seas

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing in either _The Odyssey_, or _Harry Potter_.

Hermione sat up, her breath caught painfully in her throat. The eyes that were staring into hers were the color of midnight, and she couldn't tear her gaze away. She opened her mouth to speak, but it was a male's voice that flooded the clearing.

"Who the hell are you?" Hermione was finally able to break out the trance she was in, and she turned to look at Draco. He was on his feet with his wand pointed at the man in the clearing with them, his eyes narrowed in distrust. She turned back to the stranger, and words escaped her once again.

He was beautiful, with white skin accentuating the deep black of his eyes. Dark hair fell softly around his face, and he had cheekbones that stood out sharply from the rest of his features. His eyes were framed by long eyelashes, and he never took them away from Hermione.

"I have been sent to save you." His voice was soft, and nearly musical, but there was something darker behind it – something that spoke of horrors seen and lived through. "The vampires are getting ravenous. Azreal has tasted your power, and it is corrupting him, making him want more. He will not stay away from you for long."

"I won't go with you." Hermione was surprised at the strength in her voice. "You're only bringing us to him quicker. I'd rather die than face him."

"I know the one you speak of…and I also know you are not so hesitant to be with him. He can lure even the most reluctant woman into his arms. The dreams are getting clearer, aren't they, Hermione?" As he spoke her name, his eyes simmered with dark heat.

"How do you know my name? And I don't know what dreams you are talking about." Her lie faltered only slightly before emerging, but he only nodded his acceptance with a hint of a smile before going on.

"I know many things. But I will not bring you to him." Hermione nodded as trust filled her, although she couldn't explain what had prompted it.

A hand gripped her arm, bruising it where the fingers grasped her. She spun to face Draco, who wore a mask of hatred. "No. I don't believe him…we can cope just fine without him."

Hermione shook her head, annoyance consuming her. "The vampires…Azreal… they'll just kill us. There's no point in denying it, Draco. We need him, and he's offering us a way out."

"How do you know he's just not bringing us to this guy?"

"I just know, ok?" The irritation increased, and Hermione shook Draco away. "You can stay here if you want. Have fun being eaten by vampires. I'm going with…" She turned towards their visitor, who was standing quietly watching their discussion, once again, "What is your name?"

"You may call me Malachi."

Hermione smiled at him and turned her attention back to Draco. "I'm going with Malachi, Draco. You can come if you want." She spun around briskly, and gathered her things. She closed her eyes tightly as the world started to spin, but collected herself. It felt as if something was holding her head in a vice, but she was unable to concentrate fully on the pain.

She followed Malachi as he turned into the forest, and noticed that the trail she had been following the night before was gone.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Panic gripped Harry. They had heard the rain hit the soil above them for days now, and the water was beginning to seep underground. It dripped through every crevice in the walls of the war-weakened subway system, and it brought with it the stench of the decay it had worked itself through.

He stared at the ground, watching the ever-steadying stream of almost black water running underneath his feet. It was barely a centimeter deep, but he knew it would build. Even if it stopped raining, the amount of water the earth above them held was too much. It would leak through, and flood the Colony. And it was going to happen soon.

Nobody else seemed to realize the impending disaster, and were simply side-stepping the water as they went about their chores. He watched Ginny as she sat in a wooden chair by their tent, wringing her hands and staring at the statue of Hermione that she had moved closer to their home. She had been doing that for days – ever since the night she woke up because of thoughts about the baby. Harry knew something else had been wrong with her that night, but didn't question. She would tell him when it was the right time.

He slowly walked to her, not wanting to give her any more concerns, but knowing he had to. She looked at him as he came closer, and he saw her wipe tears away with the back of her hand.

"We have to move." His voice was flat as he realized even more how true it was. "We're going to get flooded out of here."

Ginny looked around her, and slowly nodded. "I know." No emotion crept into her words, but Harry saw her lips tremble as she spoke. "It's going to be hard…in my condition especially."

He knelt next to her, caressing her pregnant stomach. "We'll be careful, Ginny. Nothing is going to happen to you, or to our child. I promise." He sounded surer than he felt, but her eyes seemed to brighten slightly. "I have to tell the rest of them. We move tonight."

Ginny nodded once more, and watched as Harry approached the rest of their group. Fear was evident on many of the faces, but they hadn't survived the war without a reason. They were prepared for disaster at any moment, and finally it was coming. She bit her lip, and turned back to the silent statue.

"God Hermione…where are you?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the words seemed to echo around her. She had been having the dreams every night, and Hermione's pale eyes had only gotten more uncaring. The tears of blood she shed had begun to fill the space around them, and Ginny remembered far too well the tangible feeling of sick warmth it brought with it.

She heard footsteps approaching, and turned her head to face Pansy. The girl was looking indifferently at the water running beneath her, and only met Ginny's eyes when she was stopped in front of her.

"I hear we're going to move tonight." Ginny nodded, and Pansy looked away again. "That's probably a good idea."

Silence seemed to create space between them, until Pansy finally broke it. "I've been having dreams Ginny, of Draco. I know it sounds stupid, but they feel almost real, and I didn't know who else to go to." Her voice was heavy with tears, and when she raised her eyes they spilled onto her cheeks. Ginny watched their trail quietly, thinking horribly back to the dream where blood made its own path down Hermione's face.

"What happens in the dreams?"

"I'm running through darkness…a sort of darkness that creeps through your skin and makes its home in your veins. Draco is standing, his back to me, and I touch his shoulder. He turns around…and his throat is," Her voice cracked, "it's torn out. Blood is pouring down his robes, and leaking out of his mouth as he forms words I can't make out. Then Hermione comes up behind me with two other people, two men that are hidden in black robes. They are completely different though, I'm not sure how. But both are shielding Hermione so much that I can barely see her. I meet eyes with one of the people beside her, and it feels like razors are shooting through me, tearing me apart from the inside…I can still feel that when I wake up, but not as bad or for very long."

Pansy met eyes with Ginny once more, a pleading look within her dark orbs. "I'm so sorry to come to you like this Ginny, you have enough to worry about…it's just that Hermione says your name every time, right before I wake up, when I can barely concentrate because of the pain."

Ginny swallowed; her mouth suddenly dry. "I've been having the same dreams Pansy, only it's mostly Hermione and I only see one man beside her…but Draco, he looks the same."

Pansy's voice was quiet, and Ginny couldn't tell if she was hopeful or scared. "Do you think that Draco's alive…that he's with Hermione?"

"Maybe…maybe it's just something to trick us, or something with the magic in the air…"

Pansy nodded, a strange look painted on her face. She smiled silently at Ginny, and then turned to go. Something about the way she was walking seized Ginny's mind, taking it back to that day.

She didn't want to remember.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco glared at the two people in front of him, his lip curling in disgust. Hermione was glancing at her companion every now and then, thinking that nobody noticed. She seemed unable to concentrate on where she was going, and continually tripped on roots and rocks. Every time, Malachi stretched out his hand just in time, and kept her from completely falling.

The stranger, as Draco still referred to him, was using some sort of magic to create a small ball of light which illuminated the forest around them. A cold breeze cut through Draco, and caused the entire night to seem alive. It moved on its own accord, and Draco thought he heard voices calling out in strange tongues.

Suddenly, a voice wailed in the dark. It sounded like a woman, and Draco tensed. Hermione clutched onto Malachi, who was standing completely still.

"We must stop for the night. They have sensed us." His voice was eerily soft, but Draco could hear notes of triumph within it. Hermione didn't seem to notice, and nodded vigorously. Malachi turned his light to a clearing that was in front of them, and Draco narrowed his eyes. He could see a fire burning in the clearing once again.

Something wanted them to be safe, to survive their nights in comfort. Hermione had hesitated before letting them stop in the last one, but now she stepped eagerly into the cleared area, hurrying over to the fire. Draco contemplated just walking on, but then remembered the threat of the vampires. At least if he was by a fire, he wouldn't be torn apart by sharp teeth laced with promising whispers.

He shivered at the thought, and stepped nearer to the fire. He glanced at Malachi, and froze at what he saw. The man was coaxing a small animal closer to him, his eyes shining. As the furry creature sniffed his outstretched fingers, it suddenly squealed in fear and tried to run away. It was too late.

As Malachi skinned the animal, Draco remembered that he hadn't eaten since the night before, and felt the hunger pierce through him. When their leader held the animal over the fire, impaled on a stick, the smell lured Draco to the fireside at last. Warmth seeped through him, and he tried not to look at the gory animal cooking next to him.

Malachi had grabbed the creature, and sliced through the skin on its throat with sharp nails akin to an animal's. The skin on their dinner's throat was ragged and dripping with blood, which sizzled as it hit the flames. Dread seeped through Draco as he stared at the sight, some memory brushing his mind teasingly. It was gone before he could grasp it, though, and he was left with the unnamable apprehension.

Finally, the meal was finished, and Malachi split the animal in half, giving it to Hermione and Draco. When the girl protested, he shook his head quietly, as if laughing at the idea of eating to sustain himself.

Settling next to the fire, Draco looked at Hermione. She was taking out her book, and as she opened it to where they had left off the night before, she met his eyes and gestured for him to sit next to her. He did, and they both stared at the page in front of them. He finished it, and looked at Hermione, expecting her to be done as well. Instead, she was staring at the stranger, her eyes sharp.

"I don't trust him." He hissed his dissent into her ear, not wanting Malachi to overhear. She didn't respond to him, instead just turned to meet his gaze for a moment before looking back over at their companion. Draco started, and drew away from her. Her eyes had been emptier than any he had ever seen, including the vampires, who held fiery evil behind their icy exterior. He shuddered, and looked back down at the book, wanting desperately to forget her image.

_And one is still alive, held captive, somewhere, off in the endless seas…_

**A/N: **I just love _The_ _Odyssey_…lol so yeah; the next chapter is going to be a rather eventful one, so stay tuned! I'll try to get it up fast, but I just got a job, so I'm so busy now! I stayed up WAY past my bed-time to write this one lol, thanks to all who reviewed, and I'd like to give a special thanks to **BootstrapBoula**, who always writes such long reviews…I love it lol

Please, please review it is my favorite thing in the world to get reviews lol good or bad, at least I know people care! Thanks again!


	10. Behind the Wall

**Disclaimer: **Nothing belongs to me but my plot. Oh, I also wanted to mention here that Malachi is pronounced Malak-eye…not Mala-chee…I think most people know that, but I just want to make sure

------------------------------------------------------------------

_Ginny awoke, staring at the walls around her. They were familiar, red with silver accents. She had always been amazed that this room could be so beautiful when it was fixed up. _

_No. Not again. _

_She closed her eyes, willing herself to wake up – to escape from what was about to happen. _

_Too late. _

_Heat from the flames below warmed the floor as she slipped out of bed. She remembered with pain the terror that had flown unbridled through her veins. Screams were almost drowned out in the crackling of burning wood. Burning wood…and something else. Something that smelled sickly sweet. _

_No. She didn't want to see it. Not again. _

_Her door was flung open, and she saw Snape's wild eyes staring at her as he grabbed her arm. She wanted to drive him away, to let her burn away in her dreams. She couldn't face it again. He shoved her down the stairs, and she saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione escaping out the back door. They were safe. _

_She wanted to turn her head away, to look at the flames dancing on the walls. But she couldn't. She never could. She saw Pansy screaming at her to look forward – to look anywhere but at the place she had to. _

_They were locked in an embrace, Fleur's pale hair dancing with fire. Bill had his arms around her, and although their stances were panicked they looked at home in each other's arms. Only when the smoke had began to fill their bodies and the flames started licking greedily at their bodies had they given up trying to escape. They had been trapped. _

_Their wedding bands glittered in the light, and Ginny stared in horror as their skin turned black with death. The sweet smell hit her once more, and she felt bile raise in her throat. Snape was dragging her out the door, shouting something that she couldn't comprehend. All she saw was her brother's face twisted as her parent's had been. _

_Outside, she stood with the rest as they watched Grimmauld Place decay with fire. Their hope was lost, and Ginny could feel her world tighten around her as she thought of the love lost inside. Fleur and Bill had only just gotten married, the wedding postponed until they couldn't stand it any longer. The one hint of normalcy since the war started had taken place on that day, as every one gathered to watch them saw their vows. And now they were gone. _

_Finally Ginny could tear her eyes away from the house, and watched again what she couldn't comprehend that day. Pansy was walking away from her group, her shoulders hunched with grief. She hadn't been close to the couple, or the Order's headquarters. Ginny had never found out what caused her so much pain that night._

_Everything changed that night. As the scene faded out of her dreams, Ginny heard cruel laughter. There had never been laughter before, not before the dark dreams of Hermione had started. And now it haunted her. _

"Ginny!" The voice cut through her dreams like a knife, and Ginny shot up. She had fallen asleep while Harry packed their things, her pregnancy tangibly weighing on her. She sat up, and as the world swam back into focus she pushed her dream to the back of her mind. She could think about them right now, the ones they lost. She only needed to think about getting to safe ground.

"I haven't felt the baby kick in days, Harry…" He looked at her, and she saw the look of hopeless despair before he covered it up with a forcibly warm smile.

"Everything is going to be okay." He sounded as if he was trying to convince himself, and Ginny looked away. She loved him more everyday, but his hero complex was overwhelming at times.

"Harry…if everything isn't okay…it's not going to be your fault. You've done everything you could. More than you should have." He didn't answer her, only set his jaw firmly and continued packing. "Please don't be mad. I just want you to understand that. When this baby comes, it's going to need a father, not a guard. Not the general of our little army. Just a father."

"It's time to go." She knew he was taking in her words, but Harry had never been able to express anything he felt fully. When he had started sobbing because of Hermione, she had been taken aback, but she realized why he had done it. He kept so much emotion bottled up inside that it took her years to learn what he was truly feeling. And now he was feeling pure determination. He had to make sure everyone was safe.

They stepped out of their tent, and Ginny looked ruefully around for a moment. It would be the last time she saw the place she had learned to call home, and as surprised as it made her, she would miss the thin canopy and hard floor. She looked out the door, and felt for Harry's hand before they moved away from it.

Looking around the camp, Ginny smiled. The survivors were ready to leave, their simple belongings in bags over their shoulders. All but one. Ginny looked at the tent next to theirs. One that would be swept away, along with everything in it. They wouldn't be able to take all of Hermione's things, but maybe…

"Hold on one moment." Ginny left Harry's side, ignoring his quiet protests. She went over to the abandoned home, and lifted aside the curtain that acted as a door. She crawled inside on her knees, her belly barely touching the floor. She breathed in, and tears sprung unwillingly to her eyes. Hermione's smell was still here, a sweet scent of mixed flowers that hung on the walls - now dry but still pungent. She looked at the stack of books by the blanket-draped cot, and slowly put them in her sack. If…When Hermione came back, these would be what she wanted. Her stone replica was already stowed in Ginny's bags.

When she rejoined Harry, he wiped away the tears that stained her face without saying a word. Then, he turned to the crowd facing him with anxious expectance. He was their leader, their hero – the one who would rescue them from any situation.

"We will stay together. Nobody strays. When we get to the top, ignore the bodies. They will be everywhere, but try not to look too closely, too personally. We survived. Always remember that, and remember those who died to further our cause as they were, not as they are now. Those bodies are not our friends, our family. They are only the vessels those brave souls used." He took a breath, and Ginny knew he was thinking of Sirius – of the body who had never been found to look at. "We will find a place, hopefully a smaller town, and clear the area of any remnants of the War. We will keep it lit, and until we get there we will never travel by night. I don't know what everybody saw up there before we found this place, but I know I don't want to run into anything that lives in the dark. There will be guards awake at all times, and we will arm them with whatever is available. If you see anybody, raise an alarm. If it is another survivor," Ginny heard the hope in his voice, "then we will take them with us. But if it is not and it is light out, it is most likely one of the Changed. Do not, I repeat, do _not_, try and approach anybody without being armed and notifying me. I will be in the front of the group, along with those who will be carrying any who are unable to walk, including Ron and Snape."

Harry stopped and looked around at the faces staring back at him. "We are going to be fine. But we have to leave now." The water was around Ginny's ankles, and it was warm with age.

Harry started walking, and Ginny followed next to him. "What if the flooding is worse up there?"

"I don't think it will be…it's soaking through the dirt pretty well and I think it's stopped raining…I just hope that it cleared most of the bodies and wreckage away." Ginny nodded, and as they climbed the stairs to above, and removed the blockades they had set before, she clutched at the wand in her pocket. She remembered all too well what lurked on the land they were stepping out onto, and what they were capable of.

The entire group finally made it onto land, and Harry had been partially correct. The flooding wasn't bad enough to cause much hindrance and the rain had stopped, leaving a pale grey sky and damp ground as its reminder. But there was something else that filled the air. It was the stench of wet rot.

Ginny heard retching behind her, but as she turned around to see who the culprit was, something caught her eye. It was in the shadows of a torn building and was as still as marble. Nobody else saw it, but Ginny drew in her breath. It looked like a man in a black suit, but it was impossible to tell what he actually looked like.

As soon as she saw him, he was gone. She blinked, and then as her eyes focused once more, she noticed a black sheet fluttering in the wind in the exact spot she had thought someone had been.

_Only my imagination…_

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione felt rather than saw the forest around her. Whispers came from the trees themselves, and spying eyes peered from the shadows around them. The trees were not so dense here, and dying light filtered through them in a desolate attempt to reach the ground. She looked up as she walked, something within her guiding her, keeping her from stumbling.

Night was just now beginning to chase away the sun. She watched as it overtook the blinding star, sending it exploding into a thousand different colors spreading across the sky. Each shade caressed another, and eventually the dark began to dominate those too. The moon emerged from the smothering blanket and the stars followed timidly. Suddenly, a hauntingly beautiful voice began to sing. It was unlike the scream they had heard the night before, but it still froze the very marrow in her bones.

After walking all day without a single spoken word, Hermione could feel the dull ache in her muscles, only dimmed by the numbness that had made its home inside her. But all pain was forgotten at the sound of the voice, and Hermione saw Draco sharply raise his head at the sound, weariness draining from his stormy eyes. Malachi looked to turn away from the sound, but Hermione clutched his arm, stilling him. He ran his eyes over her, and as they met hers she felt all her resistance melt away. Even so, he looked towards the singing, and took a step closer.

Draco pushed aside the braches immediately in their way, and Hermione saw a moonlit clearing only partially hidden in front of them. A woman was standing in it, a black veil still not hiding shining white eyes beneath. They glowed with unnatural light, and Hermione stared with fascinated terror. The wraith was draped in heavy black silk that clung to her body, and she was staring ahead at another woman knelt in front of her – this one dressed in white. Her singing seemed to come from nowhere, as the rest of her face was hidden in the black cloth. Words finally emerged from the clear voice, and Malachi translated quietly, a tender note in his voice.

_"Ut is eram in exordium is vadum exsisto, quod ut is ingredior iterum nos_

_mos reverto ex nostrum sepulchrum quod servo." _

"As it was in the beginning it shall be, and when he walks again we will

return from our graves and serve."

_"Take suus iam , meus senior _

_Quod ut orbis terrarum quod divum opportunus in a denique complexo _

_Permissum suus orior oriri ortus iterum procul vestri pars _

_Ut per totus vestri liberi." _

"Take her now, my lord

And when the earth and sky meet in a final embrace

Let her rise again at your side

As with all your children."

"_Vos vadum sceptrum unus _

_Quod ut atrum of vestri nox noctis complexo nos _

_Sic complexo suus animus." _

"You shall rule alone

And as the dark of your night embraces us

So embrace her soul."

_"Cruor addo vos vita iterum."_

"Blood to give you life once more."

Horror filled Hermione as the woman with the veil ran her fingernail across the hidden throat of the woman in white. When she raised it again, it was covered in thick, red blood. No sound emerged from the kneeling figure as it dropped forward in a crumpled heap, blood pooling out from underneath it. The glowing eyes flashed even brighter as she raised the blood-covered finger to her mouth, painting it red and letting her tongue explore the taste of it. She looked to be in ecstasy, and Hermione quickly backed up, letting the branches obstruct her view once more. She looked at Malachi, who had an unreadable expression on his face. Draco was next to her, his pale features even more bloodless than usual.

"What was that?" Her words seemed distant, as if somebody else had spoken them. She tried to focus once more, but she seemed almost trapped within herself. Even more, she was content with being held prisoner by this force that had been empowering her for what seemed like so long.

"It was a death ritual." Malachi's voice sang with familiarity, and Hermione saw Draco look at him with hatred.

"Those were your people, weren't they? Worshiping a god who feeds off of human blood, who will resurrect people from the dead…that's what you've been hiding."

Anger flashed on Malachi's face, but he simply turned away. "I am taking you to the only place you will be safe."

"Please tell me you don't believe this, Granger." Draco's voice was a growl, and Hermione edged towards Malachi.

"He said he would make us safe." Even to herself, her voice sounded young and naive, and she struggled to change it. But as soon as her resistance came, it was gone and she was wondering why she had protested to the tone in the first place.

Malachi smiled, and Hermione felt pleasure run through her. He was happy.

"We are almost there. Are you coming, Draco? I'm sure Azreal would love to see you again if you don't." The confidence he felt was obvious, and Hermione saw a snarl curl Draco's lips.

"Fine." The grey eyes then turned on Hermione, and she watched placidly as he tried to read her. Some part of her wanted to call out to him, to tell him that something was wrong. She struggled, but pain seared through her every time she tried to move her lips.

Malachi kept winding his way through the woods, and only stopped when they reached a stone wall, covered in moss and vines, that stretched further than Hermione could see. Draco opened his mouth to say something sarcastic, but stopped when he saw how assuredly Malachi moved towards the wall. They watched as he pressed his forehead against the wall, whispering something Hermione couldn't make out.

With a groan, the wall opened up, painfully reminding Hermione of Diagon…and then the memory was gone, leaving her only to wonder what Diagon could mean. But even in her state of mind, when she saw what was hidden by the wall she wanted to scream, to run and never stop.

**A/N: **Yes, yes, I know….evil cliffies yet again…oh well! wink

I won at the Dramione Awards for this story, A Conflict of Love, and for Best Author! does happy dance

Oh, and thanks to those who voted/reviewed!

Please review? It's not hard…just a click of the little purple button….please:)


	11. Unveiled

**Disclaimer: **I claim no rights to _Harry Potter_

_When_

_Water falls down in silver_

_Night whispers Earth's song_

_Air mourns the dead and_

_Fire consumes all _

_They will come again_

_And claim what is theirs_

_From the Dark Prophecies_

_-------------------------------------------------------------_

The only sound in the night was the slow dripping of blood. Draco felt the world spin as black swam in his eyes, but he dug his fingernails into his palm, focusing on the pain, bringing himself back. Hermione was staring at the sight in front of them with horror, her scream still etched on her face. Malachi was calm, a hidden smile curling the ends of his mouth dangerously. Draco shivered.

The woman in white was suspended, held up by an unseen force, in front of a large, arched gate that led only into shadows. Her skin had been stripped off, and the only covering the carcass had was her thin white dress, which had no blood on it. This scared Draco beyond everything else, as he plainly saw the blood that should have saturated it still streaming down the body in slow, wet rivers. Her face, or a morbid semblance of her face, was twisted in pain. Eyes clouded in death shone out from the red with as much contrast as the white dress.

Draco began backing up quietly, and then stopped as Malachi turned shining eyes on him. "You will not leave." His voice was laced with lethality, and Draco nodded, the fury at being ordered masked by overwhelming fear. Something was horribly wrong. As he knew it would be the moment he met Malachi. He shuddered, remembering the dreams he had been having the last few nights, and then pushing them out of his mind.

_Not now_. He had to keep his senses, not get sucked into thoughts of the images he saw every night. Malachi looked away, his grin getting wider. "My Lord will be pleased."

"So you have been lying to us! You brought us to whoever it is Hermione was sent to." Malachi looked furious at the mention of this man, and Draco realized his mistake. There was someone else, someone who wanted Hermione and him as much as her dream man. _Dreams. No._

"Never will I get near Him…" Malachi seemed to be talking to himself, and Draco allowed him to. He glanced at Hermione, who was staring at the body in front of them with the same half-empty look she has adorned since Malachi joined them. He snarled. Stupid Mudblood.

A sweet smell abruptly filled the air – a sweet scent, but a wrong one. Just underneath the smell was a sour taint that ruined it and made Draco widen his eyes and goosebumps cover his flesh. He looked at Malachi, and his fear only multiplied.

The boy had been handsome, Draco could admit it, but his smooth skin was now peeling away and turning black as if it was decaying rapidly. His black irises expanded, making his eyes seem like dark caverns that went on forever. As his hair grew to cover his back in hackles like a wolf's, Draco realized that the rot-like smell was coming from Malachi. As he examined the boy's skin closer in fascinated terror, he noticed the barely visible scales that covered it. They were slick with a thin layer of a damp substance.

Malachi turned to look at Draco, raising his lips in a snarl. Blood-red fangs dripped within his mouth like a cross between a snake and a dog just tearing into a fresh meal. They stood staring at each other for a moment more before an agonized wail filled the air. "The spell is broken." Malachi's voice hadn't changed, and this alarmed Draco enough to snap back into reality.

He spun around, and saw Hermione sobbing on the ground, her head in her hands. Her voice was just a whisper. "I couldn't escape. I couldn't say what I wanted to. I tried to call out…everything was gone. My freedom was gone…my will was gone." She looked up at Draco, her eyes raw with tears. He walked over to her, almost enjoying the fact that he towered over her.

"You got yourself sucked in. I told you not to trust him."

"I know…I know, Draco, but every time I looked at him, I couldn't say no."

"Look at him now. Not so good-looking anymore, now is he?"

"It wasn't that!" She was yelling now, anger replacing her exhaustive despair. "It was something he did to me. Don't you think I can't resist a pretty face, Draco. You don't know me."

"I never wanted to." His voice was cold even to him, and a flashing memory came to him of sitting next to her at the fire, reading. He pushed it aside. "This is your fault anyway, they want you. Not me."

He felt a slithering, freezing sensation as Malachi touched his shoulder. "My Lord wants you as well, Draco. Do not speak of things you have no idea about. You are written of as well as Hermione."

Draco jerked away from the scaled hand, disgust and fear making his skin crawl. "Written about?" All Malachi answered with was a mirthless laugh. Draco saw Hermione tense next you him and step toward the boy.

"Do what you must, you filthy creature. I will never forget what you did to me, but I will not try to escape. I know as well as you do that I cannot. Just take us to your _lord_." She spit the last word with contempt, making Malachi's face harden.

"Come." The black fur on his back brushed Draco as he turned. Stepping as far away from the body as he could, Draco followed Malachi underneath the arch, stopping with shock on the other side. Before he had stepped through it, all he had seen was dark branches, but on the other side, a city lay sprawled out. The houses all had spiraling towers, and the people walking around them had pale, gaunt faces tight with years of frowning. Nobody looked like Malachi, and Draco gave him a sidelong glance. What was he?

All the inhabitants of this strange town wore elaborate clothes of silk, and Draco suddenly felt bare in his tattered clothing. He should be the one in fine clothes, he thought bitterly. He looked further down the black-stoned road that weaved through the houses and shops, and gasped. A palace proudly stood over everything else, its walls and towers glistening in the moonlight. There were no trees here to block the glowing light.

Malachi started off towards the castle. Nobody even glanced at him, but Draco felt suspicious glares taking him in, measuring him. He looked around, but as soon as he met an onlooker's gaze, they darted away, melting into the crowd. There were shops, but the things they sold were unfamiliar. Fruits of dull colors were being sold in stands lining the streets, and they gave off a rotten smell. Artifacts that glowed with cruel light shone in windows, and animal carcasses that Draco could not even begin to place hung in butchers' windows. Some had eight legs with hooves, some three heads with eye sockets that almost completely covered them.

Finally, they arrived at a black gate, marked by swirls jewels inlaid in the dark metal. A single guard stood at it's opening, and only glanced at Malachi before allowing them in. They followed the path up to the doors, and Malachi opened them with an air of importance. Draco had a feeling simply walking into the palace was a right reserved for few.

Hermione leaned against him to avoid being crushed by the heavy door swinging shut behind her, and Draco allowed it, too entranced in what he was seeing to complain. The front hall of the palace was blood red, with rubies glittering from decorations around it. Black marble made up the floors, with red rugs spread out by the seats within it.

Malachi barely glanced around before he led them to another door, leading into a room just as elaborately adorned. This continued for a while, Draco slowing his walk even more as he became absorbed in the expensive décor.

"We are here." Malachi's voice was more pensive than Draco would have liked, and he looked at the doors in front of them. These were made of swirled jewels and black. A silver serpent with a wolf's head curled up as the doorknob. "You are not to say a word until the Great Lord addresses you. Fail, say the wrong thing, and you will die."

Hermione was clutching at her clothes, her hands wringing them fearfully but her face set determinedly. Being trapped in her own mind had snapped something in her, and Draco noticed her eyes glittering dangerously. He knew she had been a powerful witch in the War, and hoped she wouldn't try anything here. At least, nothing that would get him in trouble.

Malachi opened the doors.

_Ut is eram in exordium is vadum exsisto_

**A/N**: Sorry for the longer time I've taken to update recently, I've been really busy with schoolwork and the such. Hope you like the chapter! Please review!


	12. The Hunter The Hunted

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter is all JK Rowling's. Although now I own the Goblet of Fire DVD…that's something…

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_It was time. _

_Ginny screamed as pain shot through her and her baby came into the world. Everything was quite then. Tense. Waiting. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see what she was sure would happen. _

_The smell of burned flesh didn't come. The scream of death didn't fill the air. Ginny smiled and finally opened her eyes. She looked down at her baby. _

_It stared up at her with eyes black and empty as decay. It opened its mouth, and Ginny could see the rot that filled it, eating it from inside. And then the wail began. _

_It filled the air – a shill, hissing shriek. Ginny felt blood dripping from her ears as the sound pierced and ripped through her. She dropped her corpse child, and when it hit the ground, black blood pooled from underneath it, blood that smelled of molded earth, of twisted elements. _

_And the eyes came again. The eyes Harry had dimmed and killed. The red glare that would haunt everyone who had seen it forever. _

Silently screaming, Ginny shot up from her bed. She had trained herself not to scream out loud, not to wake the man sleeping next to her. He had too much to worry about already.

Standing up, Ginny felt the soft, cold breeze dry the sweat on her forehead. A chill ran through her, and she walked slowly around their small camp. They had been walking for days, but hadn't found an area clear enough to set up camp. There had been a hotel that looked promising, but the dead bodies had proven to be too plenty to move. Now they were in a park, next to the charred, twisted metal that was once a children's playground.

Walking closer to a cluster of trees, a small sound caught Ginny's ear. A branch rustling. As she realized the wind wasn't strong enough to move even the smallest twig, Ginny felt her hair stand on end. Something…somebody was watching her.

"Who's there?" Her voice reached through the dark shakily. A shadow moved in the trees, and her breath caught in her throat. It was a man.

He stepped out, and the moon illuminated the cloaked figure. A hood still shadowed his eyes, but she could make out full lips and dark skin. He reached his hands up and she tensed, her fingers curling around her concealed wand. He hesitated at her slight movement, but continued, letting his long fingers grasp his hood and pull it down to rest on slim shoulders.

His eyes were light brown and contrasted with his darker skin, which molded with his cloak almost seamlessly. The moonlight shined on every curve of his skin, and his expression was kind. Ginny let out her breath, her lungs sighing with relief.

"Who are you?" He had a slight lilt to his voice that Ginny couldn't quite place, but his words sounded harmless, even curious.

"My name's Ginny…you've been following us."

"Yes. I thought you saw me the day you emerged from the ground, but I knew you couldn't be sure. They call me Hunter…none of us remembers our true names."

Ginny let out a small sound of surprise. "There are others?"

"Many. We have all been curious of you, but I am the only one who can sense what you all can do. Magic."

"Can't you?"

"I don't know…it is not like yours, the wizards' magic that destroyed everyone else, it's different. We do not know how, or what it is, but each of us can do things."

"Do you remember anything of your life?"

"Not much before the Awakening. Hints, dreams, déjà vu. That is all. We only remember the War, waking up in the middle of it able to do things we had never imagined. Our friends and family…the ones we could remember…were gone, destroyed by madness or worse. And the wizards were fighting all around us, killing without mercy. It was when the green light filled the world that we went into hiding. When we finally came out again, everyone was gone. Until I smelled you coming from beneath."

"Smelled?" Ginny didn't know whether to be offended or simply confused.

"I can smell, or sense, where your type of magic is or has been. The air is always ripe with it, but in some places or on certain people it stands out. I can tell how fresh it is, how powerful, and what type of curse. Right now you are in evil lands, Ginny. A battle was fought here, one of the last. The cruel magic lingers longer than the good."

Something sparked in Ginny. "So you can tell where it is safer?"

"Nowhere is completely untouched. But relatively, yes."

"Hunter," The name sounded primitive on her tongue, "The babies born since the war have been dying because of the magic in the air. It even resided under the ground. Will you help me find a safe place to give birth to my child?"

For the first time, Hunter glanced at Ginny's stomach and his eyes grew wide. "There is much magic within your womb, Ginny." He hesitated. "I should be going back to my people…"

"We can go to them first, and explain. Please, Hunter. I need this baby to be okay." She saw the uncertainty in his eyes. "What if I teach you more of life before the world, about my people and yours? We called you Muggles." The hint of information made his face twist with interest. "I can help you remember, and my friends and I will try to figure out what changed you."

Their eyes met, and Hunter finally nodded consent. "I will try and help you. But do not hold too much hope, for it is unlikely we will find a safe enough place."

For the first time in days, Ginny felt her baby move. "I won't."

It was a lie.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Finally…you have come." The voice was silky, a smooth hiss that was reminiscent of sleek oil. Hermione stepped in the great room in front of her, the rage building in her chest because of Malachi settling with unease.

A throne glittered in the back of the room, encrusted with diamonds and gold. The man sitting in it was no less adorned, with a crown made of pure, deeply colored jewels. He had on a robe of pure black fur, and his face looked silky with pampering.

"You are mine, and He will never find you." A smile revealed gleaming teeth, and the rage flared up again in Hermione's chest.

"Are we objects to be coveted, _milord_?" She said the title with a sneer, causing the smile to disappear and Draco to visibly tense beside her. "What do you want with us?"

"Do not press your luck, Hermione," he said her name casually but she felt the meaning behind it. He knew things about her, and she could not know how. She had the disadvantage. "You are coveted for reason, and I know you know that reason."

"I know no such thing." Doubt clouded her mind. She truly didn't know why there was such greed in the man's voice – what the reason was that he was so desperately clinging to.

He turned to Draco. "Are you going to play the same game as your companion, Draco, or will you tell me your secret?"

"I…I have no secret." There was fear in his voice, and Hermione glanced at him with a smirk. The adrenaline was pumping through her veins, and she felt high with it. The fury over being trapped in her own mind had awoken something within her, something that had been asleep since the day Ron fell.

"We don't have whatever it is you want. Let us go."

The king smiled humorlessly. "I'm afraid that is not an option. He wants you, and I _will_ find out why. You know, I'm sure of it. And I will get it out of you if it's the last thing you do before I flay the skin off your bodies." His voice was utterly calm as he described his idea of their fate.

The king nodded to Malachi, and the creature grabbed Hermione and Draco and dragged them out of the room. "I will take you to your quarters. You are not to leave the palace, although you may leave your rooms if you do not cause any trouble."

The rest of the commute was silent, with only their echoing footsteps to listen to. Soon, Malachi stopped in front of two doors and ushered them inside. It was a living room, with great Persian rugs on the ground and a stone fireplace trimmed with gold. Tapestries showing bloody battles hung on the walls, and two doors led to similarly decorated rooms, with a connecting bathroom.

"My lord wants his prisoners to have full comfort, so that they cooperate sooner. As much as he loves an execution, he would rather have information. Remember that."

With his final warning, Malachi glided out of the room with the grace that seemed so unnatural paired with his body. Silence overcame Hermione and Draco as they looked around their lavish prison.

"As long as you stay away from me, Mudblood."

Hermione spun around to face Draco, her frustration and eagerness to fight exploding. "You know Malfoy, in one battle, I was faced with a Death Eater who called me the same thing. A Death Eater a thousand times more experienced than you, bigger than you, and stronger than you. I decimated him with a flick of my wrist." She pulled out her wand, advancing toward the boy in front of her. "I can't use that kind of power because of whatever magical hold this place has on our wands, but I can cause you pain you've only imagined in these years rotting away by yourself. I faced Voldemort and killed him with my friends." She laughed in disgust. "And look at you. You _still_ flinch at the sound of his name."

She turned away from his stunned face, her shoulders drooping at the remembrance of her friends. Of Ginny, who was due soon, whose baby had to live. Of Harry, the bravest man she had met, the bravest little boy she would ever know. Of Ron. Oh Merlin, of Ron. She loved him – of that she was sure. But it went beyond love. He was the most stubborn person, but she had been sure she would always be able to rely on him in the end. And now he was gone…not physically, but as gone as he could be without dying. Almost as gone as Snape.

"You always treated them…us…like we were lower than you." She turned to face him again, not caring about the tears streaming down her cheeks. "But in reality, you had no idea what life was like, no idea about love and true equality. Blood makes no difference, Draco, but love does. The Weasleys loved everybody so much, and you're family helped murder them, torture them while their children watched. If that's what you think deserves praise, if killing is what you think makes people strong, then you are more ignorant than I ever believed."

She walked around their room, and suddenly a glimmer in the corner caught her eye. She smiled, suddenly knowing how to describe to Draco exactly what she had seen, what she had done. She walked over to the basin half uncovered by a green velvet sheet, and motioned Draco to her side.

"What is it?" He sounded nervous, and looked into what looked like rapidly swirling water. Hermione put her wand to her head and drew out a silky strand of memory.

"It's a Pensieve."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

**A/N: **What will Hermione show Draco? Will we learn what exactly happened to Ron? What will Ginny discover when Hunter leads them to his people?

Remember: Reviews speed up the writing process by feeding my eager appetite!


	13. The Pensieve

**Disclaimer: **Only my plot is my own.

--------------------------------------------------------------

The spinning stopped. They were standing in a dark park that was as quiet as death. Draco could hear his heart beating, could feel the fear flowing in his veins.

"Soon." The word cut through the cold air, and Draco glared at the girl next to him. She spoke again, quieter. "Ginny, Harry, and Ron weren't here. It was my first mission on my own, soon after the war began. I was supposed to scout out a campsite." She stopped talking, and the quiet consumed Draco once again, pierced only by the eerie creaking of a swing on the nearby playground, calling sadly for the children who used to play on it…the children who were probably dead, never to laugh or swing again.

Somebody moved behind them, and Draco spun around. It was a girl, covered in a black cloak. She had haunted brown eyes and was biting her lip in fear. "It's you." His voice was harsh.

"I was so scared. All I could think about were the Death Eater patrols that were rumored to come through here." She paused, looking expectant. A desperate scream rang through the air and Draco jumped, his stomach curdling with the sound. Hermione beckoned to him and they followed the cloaked figure. "I thought I would be able to help whoever it was." There was a tremble in her words.

They finally reached the top of a hill, and when Draco saw what awaited them, he fell to his knees. It was his father, silver hair flowing out gracefully from behind a Death Eater's mask. He was standing over a small girl who Draco recognized as a first-year from school. He couldn't put a name to her, but he remembered taunting her for being sorted into Gryffindor. She was a Mudblood.

"What do you think your father will do to her, Draco? What do you think they all would do, your side? What do you think they wanted you to do?"

"He'll kill her." He felt cold, and he knew that it was the truth. "But your side would do the same to one of us."

"Maybe. But we wouldn't torture them first."

"She's a Mudblood." He felt Hermione tense at the word. "She deserves whatever he does to her." _Doesn't she?_

"Fine. Then you won't mind watching." She turned around, facing the empty park, her face etched with hatred.

Suddenly, sobbing echoed around them. Draco looked back to his father and his victim. He was advancing towards the huddled figure, and Draco could barely make out her pleading.

_Please. No. I didn't do anything to you…_

Light shot out of his father's wand, and the girl began screaming in agonized pain as she thrashed on the ground, her small features twisted with the force of the Cruciatus Curse.

"Her name was Sandy." Hermione was facing away from him, but her voice reached his ears clearly.

The screams eased, and laughter floated up to Draco. His father's laughter. Draco saw him raise his wand once again.

_No. Please, sir. I'll do anything you ask…it hurts…_

Lucius dragged the tip of his wand over Sandy's body, and blood appeared, glistening wetly in the moonlight. The girl screamed again, sobs racking her frame. Lucius raised her in the air and dropped her, over and over, breaking her. The girls screams grew more frantic as her bones snapped so loudly Draco could hear them.

Lucius dropped her once more and began to circle the body, impervious to the hoarse sobs. Draco glanced at the cloaked Hermione, and saw her crouched beneath a tree, tears streaming down her face. She knew she would be helpless on her own against Lucius, but needed to see this. It would make her harder. This was War.

He looked back to Lucius, and his eyes grew wider, his shaking limbs stilling in horror. His father was raising one finely made boot over the girl's head, readying himself to bring the heel crashing down upon her.

"She was twelve…she had a mother and a father, who eventually went mad. She had an older brother, who went to Hogwarts years before, who Voldemort himself eventually killed because of his attempts to avenge his sister. She had a crush on a boy named David. She had a cat who followed her everywhere, throughout the dorms and even tried once or twice to get into class with her. Her laugh was beautiful and innocent."

"No!" Draco ran towards his father, but his arm passed straight through Lucius, and he heard the crack as the boot hit Sandy's skull. It was over. Draco collapsed, and the world began to spin again.

On the floor of the castle, he looked up at Hermione. Her face was set. "We're not done, Draco." She drew the wand to her temple once again, and grabbed him, pulling him into the Pensieve.

It was a battle, in the middle of London. Curses were being fired all around him, red and green bleeding together. Screams filled the air, screams of the wounded, screams of the dying, screams of those stumbling over bodies of loved ones. The memory Hermione was surrounded by three Death Eaters, fending them off with burning fire in her eyes. She fired at those around her until they were all prone on the ground. He looked around him, and saw Harry and Ron standing back to back, snarls on their faces, shooting curses at whoever dared come near them. The Weasley family was close by, Mrs. Weasley with an expression that Draco could have never imagined on the plump woman's face. It was an expression of raw desire to live, to protect those around her, even if it meant killing those around her.

Suddenly a blast erupted the stones near them, and most of the Light side started to flee. Harry was calling out commands, telling his people to back off, that they had done all they could for that day. Draco felt himself being drawn away from the battle, although he was trying to peer through the dust that clouded the air, to find somebody he recognized, his father above all. Hermione grabbed his arm, yanking him away. "We have to follow me…this is my memory." He nodded, and ran with her into the building where her friends were headed; a building several members of the Order of the Phoenix were setting protective spells around.

When inside, Hermione went up the dusty staircase and into a large room with a window facing the battleground. The only sound was panting, and Draco studied the faces of those leaning against the wall. Ginny was there, along with her brother and a couple more of the Weasley children who Draco could recognize but not name. Harry was on the floor, his head in his hands, his eyes closed. Ron had his hand resting on Hermione's shoulder, and she was leaning against him.

More pounding came up the stairs and the older members of the Order came in. "Did we lose anybody?" It was Snape speaking, and Draco wanted to run to him. Although they had ended up loyal for different sides, Draco still considered the man his Godfather, and loved him more than anybody else he had known at Hogwarts.

There was silence while everybody looked around and then there was a sharp intake a breath. It was Ginny. "My parents."

"No!" It was Ron, who furiously pounded the wall, his face red. "We have to go back!"

"We cannot just walk back out there, Mr. Weasley." Snape's voice was calm, but Draco heard the underlying panic.

Ginny walked slowly to the window. She let loose a sob, and the rest of the war-weary people in the room ran to the window. The Weasleys were bound together in the middle of a group of people, and were being levitated to a platform. Draco felt sick as he looked at their children's faces – faces of pure, tragic fear.

The screaming started when the fires were lit. Ginny was on her knees, her forehead pressed up against the window. Ron's face was set, tears shining but not released. Hermione was grasping his hand, and when Draco looked over at the real Hermione, she was gazing at him with an unreadable expression. The rest of the Weasely children were furiously screaming at the crowd below, calling out for parents who would never hear their voices again. He looked out the window and nearly screamed himself. The Death Eaters were rejoicing, reveling in the slowly charring bodies of the Weaselys. Mrs. Weasely was gazing up at the window as if she could sense her children there, and the couple was grasping onto each other, refusing to give the Death Eaters more fun by screaming.

Draco looked away, unable to face the gruesome sight any longer. He looked at Hermione instead. "Please get me out of here."

"Do you understand yet?"

"My side may have had the same tragedies."

"But your side started the killing. We only defended, never initiated. Your side took innocents and killed them for fun."

Draco looked away. "Please just take me home."

"Do you need to see more?"

"What happened to Ron?"

"That isn't relevant." Her voice shook. "That isn't for you to see."

The room around him dimmed, and he felt the now-familiar nausea of returning to the castle.

"What you will never understand if that your side, your father, they killed out of hate, while we killed out of love for those who needed protection."

"My father loved some things."

"He loved power."

"He loved me."

"Are you sure?"

Draco began to respond, but then turned away. "Get out." He heard her leave, and he turned and walked into his bedroom. The bed was dark green, and he smiled dryly at the irony. He slipped under the covers, and as his head rested on the pillow, images came back to him.

_His father, when he was three. Laughing at him when he fell down. Sandy. She was twelve. Voldemort's eyes glowing as he walked into the manor. The marble floor as Draco bowed as far as he could. Submission. A dragon-hide boot. A fireplace that illuminated the bruise on his mother's skin. A window running with the tears of a girl losing her parents. _

Sobs ripped through him as he drifted into a sleep filled with the dreams. The dreams that had been haunting him. The dreams he was certain were more reality than illusion.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

**A/N: **So, what did you think? Any suggestions? My last chapter got like, 6 reviews, so does anybody want to tell me what I'm doing wrong here?


	14. Prophecy

**A/N: **Wow…so sorry for the long wait, I've been insanely busy this month with my job and the last month of high school ever! Woo! So, yeah, but thank you to all those who have waited and are now reading this. You rock. I promise to update sooner!

---------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione opened her eyes, and for a moment confusion clouded her brain. She was in a red room, and she was tangled in a silk quilt. Her head was on a pillow so soft it felt like a dream and the gold and jewels that iced everything around her glittered in the sunlight streaming through an open window.

As reality seeped into her mind, she jolted out of bed. A knock resounded through the room, and she glanced at the heavy wooden door and pulled her blankets to her chin before timidly shouting for whoever it was to come in. A young woman with flowing blond hair and glowing skin walked in, her eyes facing downwards. She was carrying a plate of food, and Hermione smiled at her, hoping to find some sort of a friend. The blond didn't even acknowledge the gesture, setting the food down next to Hermione and turning away.

"Excuse me?" Hermione tried once more, and the girl stopped, still facing away. "Do you know why we're here?" The girl pivoted slowly, and met Hermione's eyes, causing her to freeze with renowned fear. The eyes were completely black, as Malachi's had been. The girl curled her lips in a small grin before bowing slightly, turning, and leaving the room.

Closing her eyes briefly, Hermione prayed for a sudden miracle to return her home to her friends. Opening them, she sighed in resignation and looked at the food displayed for her. Red meat swam with tender juices, and a creamy broth was next to it. Her stomach turning, Hermione turned away from the pungent food. Eating strange meat delivered by an inhuman girl in an obvious enemy's house didn't strike her as an appealing prospect. Instead, she slowly climbed out of bed and slipped on her clothes from the night before, wincing at the coarse feel that contrasted so sharply with the silkiness of her bed.

Walking out of the room, she noticed that Draco's was cracked open, and despite herself, Hermione walked over and peered in. Draco was staring at the same girl who had come into her room moments before, his face a mixture of fascination at her beauty and horror at her black eyes. She also noticed the haggard appearance prominent around his eyes, and something in her stirred.

Shaking it off, she turned away and looked at the living room that had been ignored in their fight the night before. It of course was rich in design, but besides the Pensieve, there was nothing that held her interest for too long. She almost wanted to see what kinds of memories were held in the swirling depths of the device, but resisted the temptation, saving that experience for a time when the king's servant wasn't in the next room.

Hermione noticed that the door to their living quarters was open, and without hesitation she ventured into the vast hallway. Walking through the palace, she gazed at the portraits of great deeds and the empty rooms that were furnished with such luxury that they could fund an entire country. Thinking back on the shabby conditions of this king's city, Hermione frowned. Surely he could afford to provide for the clearly starving inhabitants, and surely they must know what he was keeping from them.

So why did they merely wander the streets without a word of dissent? What horrors must have happened to them to put enough fear in their hearts that revolt was an impossible thought?

Suddenly, Hermione skidded to a stop, staring in wonder at a room in front of her. A library as big as a house stretched out, filled with neatly organized books and parchments. Hermione walked in, her lips parted in awe. She lightly ran her fingers over the spines of the books as she walked passed them, her mind subconsciously skimming their titles. A hunger within her reawakened, quelling the fighting instinct that had been planted the night before.

As her fingers grazed the coarse paper, memories of the library back at Hogwarts filled her mind, and images of the time before the horrible war bombarded her thoughts. Harry and Ron copying her homework in between classes, curled up alone but content in a corner of the library with a book, watching Viktor Krum as he wandered in and out followed by groups of girls infatuated with him…tears sprung unwilling to her eyes.

A sharp pain in her finger snapped her back into the present, and Hermione quickly stuck the bleeding paper cut into her mouth, the metallic taste stinging her taste buds. She looked at the single piece of parchment sticking out from between two books, and slowly pulled it out. It was a page out of a book, deeply creased from years of folding and re-folding.

_Once there were only two in power, and They ruled the earth with fiery passion and fierce pride. He was an unforgiving Lord with an infatuation for blood, and She was the most beautiful woman ever to grace the earth. With a single look a man would fall to Her feet and beg to be Hers, and He would kill them with a furious blow. He was the force, but She had control over Him, as He would do anything to please Her. _

_One day, an old woman came to Their palace and demanded to see the Queen. The servants tried to stop her, but with a flick of her wrist they became still and she walked past them. When she reached Her, she told Her of a prophecy that made the Queen tremble for the first time in Her life. She called for Him and when He heard the words, He attacked the old woman with unprecedented force. However, the woman withstood his fury and bowed, leaving Them, never to be seen again. _

_Days later, the Queen died, leaving Him alone on Their throne to destroy everything that came before Him. He never completely died, but faded away slowly, leaving behind Him a wave of miserable darkness that would condemn the hearts of man. Nobody would ever again be pure. _

_Another prophecy soon arose that He would rise again someday when the foretelling that had killed His love came to pass. She would also rise from her grave to join Him and Their rise to power would be joined with followers that would come to worship Them. _

_As for the prophecy that terrified the Queen, some state that it foretold of a force even more powerful than Them that would join with…_

The page ended, and Hermione realized that she had been holding her breath the entire time she read. Drawing in a gasp of air, she folded the parchment once more and hid it in her clothes. This must be the God that the woman in the forest was sacrificing to, and the promise of power that would accompany submissive following of this God was holding the city's people back from rebelling against the Lord preaching to them.

Hurrying out of the library, Hermione headed back to her room, the fury bubbling in her once more. She had seen what greed and lust for power did to people, and had no desire to be caught in a web of the same thread. Voices drifted from a room as she passed, interrupting her thoughts. She halted, and listened, recognizing the king's and Malachi's voices.

"My Lord…I believe that the prisoners do not know why he wants them…"

"No! They must know, how could they not? You say the girl has dreamed of him, and he only reaches out to those he has a connection with already."

"Maybe he has changed his reason to fit his purposes, Lord…"

"I need to know why they are going to him, or I must kill them. They cannot be allowed to reach him if he wants them this badly. There has to be a reason for it!"

"Of course there is a reason. He does nothing without motive."

"The vampires are right outside of the borders, you say?"

"Yes my Lord…they are demanding the prisoners back. Azrael is ravenous for the girl, but the others have repressed his thirst out of fear of him."

"Well they shall not receive them. I will kill the boy tonight, and in the morning I will sacrifice the girl. If they cannot tell me their use by then, of course. If I cannot utilize them, I will not just give them up to him. Then again…the girl might have some use. We could convert her into one of you, Malachi…she could be your mate if you wish."

Horror filled Hermione at these words, and it only increased at the rumble of satisfaction that came out of Malachi. Fleeing down the hallway, she reached her room and almost ran into Draco, who was coming carefully out of their prison.

"What in Merlin's name is wrong with you?" His voice was scornful, but softened at the look on her face.

"We have to get out of here, Malfoy. Now."

"What happened?"

"The king…he wants to kill you tonight because he can't figure out what the guy who the vampires were taking us to wants with us."

"And you care if I die?"

The question took Hermione back, and she didn't say anything. For the first time, she realized that she had been as concerned for Draco's fate as she was for her own. Recovering, she lied, "I don't. They want…well…they want to do things to me as well."

At her ambiguous statement, Draco raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. "Well how exactly so you plan on getting us out of here, Granger?" His slow drawl made Hermione want to shake him, but she realized he had an uncaring façade that was altogether too natural.

"I don't know…anything would be better than here."

Silence surrounded them as Hermione thought. She had escaped many situations before during the war, but never had she been faced with this great of odds. Her greatest advantage, her intelligence, was wasted here because she didn't know anything about the land she was trapped in, only that magic was practically useless. Her attempts at Apparating had failed miserably the first day Draco had transported her here, and even lighting her wand was incredibly difficult.

As she reached further into her mind, images began to seep through, images she recognized only from dreams. The eyes of the man calling her suddenly emerged, and she grasped onto them, dread mixing with sinister excitement.

_Help me. _He had been able to enter her mind through her dreams, and now she reached out fully back to him.

_Please, help me. _

Nausea gripped her as fleeting visions swarmed in her mind. Pain racked through her body as she screamed silently for help, for his help, for anybody's help.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

"How can we trust this guy?" Harry's voice was demanding, and his eyes were disapproving.

When Ginny had woken him up in the night with Hunter by her side, explaining what he had said to her, mistrust had saturated her lover's face. He had never had a natural instinct for liking or disliking people, as she had seen through his trust of Moody/Bart Crouch Jr. in fourth year and his constant suspicion of Snape.

She had lead him away from her new companion, and was now trying to make him understand what Hunter could do for the baby. "He's our only hope, Harry…and you've always wanted to find survivors. Now we have. Don't just give up on this. Besides, we all know how to fight. We aren't completely defenseless."

Harry seemed to accept this, and looked back at Hunter, who was waiting silently by their makeshift tent. "Fine…but we keep our guard up. I still don't like that you were out there alone with him. It could have been anybody."

"It's not like I really had a choice…he just kind of appeared. And we always have our guard up."

With a nod, Harry walked back over to Hunter, and Ginny gave the man a small grin. He smiled back, and she felt warmth inside of her for the first time in ages. He might be able to save her family. That was all that mattered.

The sun soon rose, and the rest of their group was introduced to Hunter. With a set destination at last, the survivors packed their things and began to follow the dark-skinned man with more energy than had shown since the flooding.

Throughout the day, Ginny kept her spirits up, trying not to look at the bodies that still lay strewn across the land in more quantity than she had remembered. Finally, they reached a Gothic style mansion that showed the first signs of life she had seen since they had to retreat underground right after the War. Plants were blooming in the garden, and a cat was stalking a mouse in the middle of a flourishing green yard.

"This is it." Hunter's words weren't needed, as the group had already moved towards the house, surprise lighting up their faces. He drew Ginny aside, however, and whispered, "I don't know how well some of my companions will react to you. Many have become somewhat of recluses…and some will be able to expand their powers so much by being around your magic that they may get either frightened or greedy. We will not stay here for long, as I believe you must find a place to live that doesn't have as much harmful magic in the air to give birth, and that may be far away from here." Ginny nodded, the subject of her baby bringing a small grin to her face. "Remember, Ginny…do not get your hopes up."

Right then, a scream pierced the air and a small girl flew out of the house. She was about ten years old, and her hair flew around her face in wild curls. "Hunter!" She flew into the man's arms and Ginny's smile grew into laughter. Finally, something in the world was not dark and drenched with death but was a resemblance of life before the War.

The girl looked at Ginny, and her laughter fled in fright. The girl's face had warped with a sickening, sad horror, and her arms had gone limp around Hunter's neck. He too, was looking at the girl, a frown tugging at his lips. He quickly carried her away and into the house, leaving Ginny to watch them leave with twisted dismay.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Hunter carried Corra into her bedroom, hugging her tighter to quiet her trembling. "What's wrong, baby? What did you see?" He kept his voice quiet, knowing that when the little girl had just foreseen something her senses were incredibly sensitive.

"Death…" Her voice was eerie and detached and far too mature for a girl her age. "Death born from within her…death because of evil…because of a girl who is far, far away…it is not what she expects, she expects it to die because of evil in the air…but it is not from the air the baby's fate will come, it is from her dreams and the girl who controls them. And the boy will help, he will be the one to strike it down with a single word from the girl…Evil will come for us all when they reach out for the child." Dread pooled in Hunter's stomach, and he wished he had left the group of wanderers to fend for themselves. "There is nothing to do but wait, for they can not be stopped. They will rule the earth again with the aid of sin. Lilith and Adeo will come for the powers of the savior of the magic and his love, and they will take us for our abilities. They cannot be stopped."

Hunter felt a seizure of pain hit him as her words sunk in. "Isn't there anything we can do?"

"There is nothing. Only they themselves can shake off their purpose, and they will not. She is calling to Him now, the one who will help them change. They will die and resurrect as the ones who will feed on us all."

"Do I tell the others?" His voice was shaking.

But she had stopped, her eyes focusing once more. "About what, Hunter?" Her innocent voice, so unlike the one that had just come from her mouth, was haunting.

"Nothing, baby girl, nothing at all. Go downstairs and eat dinner, and apologize to the girl with red hair, tell her you suddenly felt sick and that's why you looked at her funny, ok?"

"Ok!" Her eyes bright, Corra hopped down from her bed, used to taking instructions that might not make sense. As she left the room, the smile Hunter had put on to ease any confusion she might have left, and he put his numbing head into shaking hands. They were all forsaken.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

**A/N: **So, what do you think? Is it moving along a little faster now? Also, does anybody think I need a beta? I'm not sure about that. **NatCat **I hoped I answered your question about Apparation in this chapter. Oh, and don't worry, this story is not going to suddenly turn completely supernatural and have Draco and Hermione transforming all over the place. Their relationship is going to take a turn in the next chapter, and they will be fully themselves. Why they are wanted to badly together by the mysterious guy will also be delved into.

One more thing, I wanted to explain some of the names in this story, because most of them have some meaning or another, but don't follow exactly what their namesakes might relate to.

Malachi – It means "my messenger" in Hebrew, as he is the messenger for his lord.

Hunter – Kind of obvious, he "hunts" for magic.

Corra – A Scottish goddess of prophecy.

Lilith and Adeo – There is a legend that says Adam (Adeo is a form of Adam, and I changed it from Adam because my character is not really an Adam at all, but I wanted to relate it back to this "first people" kind of thing) had a demon queen as wife before Eve. This demon harmed children, and is sometimes translated as the, "night creature". My Lilith and Adeo are NOT following the exact legend of these two, like I said above, but they were the initial rulers of the earth.

Azrael – The Angel of Death, this character is going to play a bigger role as the story progresses.

**Please, Please review I _really_ want to know what you guys thought of these latest developments! Any criticism, comments, questions, or suggestions are completely welcome and I'll do my best to answer anything and address any specific stuff. Thank you so much for reading! **


End file.
